Sharing Two Different Minds
by xXDemonic AngelXx
Summary: The death of Sirius is fresh on Harry's mind, and he's looking for any way to get rid of it. The help he gets is from a voice that is changing him and making Harry a completely different person than he was normally.
1. Only the Beginning

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Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, destined to defeat the Dark Lord and protect all wizards and muggles.

Or, at least that was the plan.

It was that way until the night Sirius died and Voldemort got into Harry's head. Harry had just seen his godfather die, and Lupin had to pull him back, to keep him from jumping through the veil to Sirius, and to his own sure death. He chased Bellatrix Lestrange up to the Atrium, wanting to kill her. As they were shouting spells at each other, she demanded the prophecy. Harry told her it was broken, and no one was able to hear what it said—which made his scar start burning like molten iron. It became worse as he yelled at Bellatrix, finally yelling, "Don't waste your breath! He can't hear you from here!"

"Can't I, Potter?" said a high, cold voice.

Voldemort told Bella that Harry hadn't been lying, and as he was about to kill Harry, Dumbledore intervened, saving Harry from getting killed. The two most powerful wizards known were fighting; neither getting killed nor hit with spells. What astonished Harry more was that Dumbledore was also protecting him. When the battle seemed to end, Dumbledore shouted "Stay where you are, Harry!"

For the first time, Dumbledore sounded frightened. Harry could not see why. The hall was quite empty, except for themselves, the sobbing Bellatrix still trapped under her statue, and the tiny baby Fawkes croaking feebly on the floor—

And then Harry's scar burst open. He knew he was dead. It was pain beyond imagination, pain past endurance—

He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creatures began. They were forced together, bound by pain, and there was no escape—

And when the creature spoke, it used Harry's mouth, so that in his agony he felt his jaw move...

"_Kill me now, Dumbledore..."_

Blinded and dying, every part of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again...

"_If death is nothing, Dumbledore, Kill the boy..."_

_Let the pain stop,_ thought Harry. _Let him kill us...End it Dumbledore...Death is nothing compared to this..._

_And I'll see Sirius again..._

And as Harry's heart filled with emotion, the creatures coils loosened, the pain was gone. Harry was lying face down on the floor, his glasses gone, shivering as though he was laying upon ice, not wood...

And there were voices echoing throughout the hall, more voices than there should have been: Harry opened his eyes, saw his glasses lying at the heel of the headless statue that had been guarding him, but which now lay flat on its back, cracked and immobile. He put them on and raised his head an inch to find Dumbledore's crooked nose inches from his own.

"Are you alright Harry?"

"Yes," said Harry, shaking so violently he could not hold his head up properly. "Yeah I'm—where's Voldemort, where—who are all these—what's—"

As Harry gazed around the room full of people, he felt as if something was touching his mind; caressing it. He stood up, getting a head rush, causing him to close his eyes. Only, he saw red eyes on his eyelids, causing him to open his eyes, soon being sent back to Hogwarts. The first thing he did was seek out a reflection of himself and check his features. He looked the same, except that he was pale. With being possessed again, he figured it was quite normal to say the least from what could have happened. With that thought, the back of his mind itched, almost as if something was touching and probing inside of him.

The more Harry thought about how everything had happened, how it was his fault for killing Sirius, the guilt filling Harry's chest was like some monstrous, weighty parasite that writhed and squirmed. Harry could not stand this, could not stand being Harry anymore...He had never felt more trapped inside his own head and body, never wished so intensely that he could be somebody—anybody—else...

Dumbledore returned and Harry yelled at him, breaking anything he could to get all of his anger out, especially when Dumbledore stared at him with the cool complexion. When Harry finally calmed, Dumbledore explained everything, from how it was his fault for Sirius dying, to his explanation for Harry's Occlumency lessons, to what happened after Harry had given Snape his message. He also explained the reason for Harry's scar, and that Harry had to kill Voldemort in the end, or vice versa. Harry mellowed out, and when they came to the topic for why Voldemort failed to continue possessing Harry for long, Harry felt a short, sharp pain at the back of his skull, so brief he wasn't sure if it was a remnant of the action from the night or his imagination.

Dumbledore finished his explanation with telling Harry why he wasn't made prefect, and Harry left the room, feeling selfish and bad for Dumbledore. He went back to the dorms, just wanting to sleep. He felt alone as Neville and Ron weren't there, Seamus and Dean still not talking to him but unknowing of the adventure the gang had just experienced. He hoped that they weren't going to ask any questions as to where he had been all day. He preferred their silence over anything.

When he woke up, he didn't remember having any dreams and he felt distant from everything. He assumed it was from having Sirius suddenly ripped out of his life. He snuck down to the kitchens to eat his meals, and hid either by the lake or in the hospital wing. Hermione mentioned his depression, explaining it was normal to feel this way, that with time his heart would heal. Ron simply didn't say anything except he was there if Harry ever wanted to talk. They all thought they knew what he was going through, but they didn't. They couldn't relate to his emotions at all. He felt like he had been drowning, and the hand that was to save him had been pulled back, leaving him to die in the dark currents of life.

Harry became very moody, and only talked to Ron and Hermione. When he was alone he wanted to be with somebody, but when he was with somebody he wished he was alone again, and made whatever excuse to leave, only to feel lonely soon afterwards. When Ron and Hermione were released, it was three days before the term ended, and the pressure in the back of his head began to increase. He continued to assume it was from stress and lack of sleep, in which case Hermione and Ron didn't need to know about it. He didn't want to have anyone worrying about him anymore. When the term ended, Harry was happy to get away from everyone. For once, he was happy—of sorts—to go back to the Dursley's. They wouldn't treat him like he was some fragile toy that needed to be put on the highest shelf.

On the train ride home, he contemplated how he would have a quiet life for the summer, and he would enjoy it. It'd be like back when he was twelve. Never knowing someone was out there who actually cared. He was going to be lonely once more; a feeling that only seemed to spike the pressure in the back of his head. The only fun he had was when Moody, Mr. Weasley, Tonks, and Lupin threatened his uncle and aunt. He felt better, once he realized that the he did truly have family in the wizarding world that cared for him. The sudden emotion drove the pressure in the back of his mind away for moment, until he was in the car back on the way to the house.

The first two weeks of the usual summer schedule kept Harry away from the house, brooding in his own dark thoughts. He thought about many things that had happened, and tried putting his life in a different perspective. He was tired of people using him, was tired of his family being killed, and especially tired of the pressure in the back of his mind. It almost felt like someone was there, listening to his every though, wanting to jump in at any second to intervene and give their two cents. In his spiral of despair, when a voice seemed to speak in his ear, he quickly took to the mature voice, relaxing the more the two conversed with each other.

The first time it spoke to him, he was at the park down the street, sitting on the swings and watching the sun set. _The darkness reminds you of the veil, doesn't it?_ something asked. Harry turned around, almost falling off of the swing. When no one was there, he asked "Where are you?"

_Everywhere. Around you, above you, below you, in you._

"Who are you?" Harry demanded, unknowing of where to face.

_A friend. A Wiseman. One who has seen hard times, and has pressed through them to achieve his goals. Consider me something that can help you through this hard time. Your friends would only understand this pain of you losing your godfather, if they were to lose you themselves._

As much as Harry hated to admit it, the voice was right. "Yes. But, how can I stop feeling like this?"

_It's easier said than done. You'd have to face life alone. Literally walk your own path. Give up your love of your godfather. Sirius, his name is? Surrender your love, and you will feel better soon, as well as you will become stronger as a person. Future deaths will be easy to get over. It'll be easier to reminisce. No grief, no what ifs, no depression. Life moves on._

Harry didn't know how to respond. "But...Sirius is what my life...was. If I stopped caring, it would mean everything he ever did was wasted effort. He's what saved me from Voldemort."

_Holding onto your love of Sirius holds onto your belief that he isn't truly dead. I see that here in your mind. It's why you're still upset, and you will continue to be upset with everything that reminds you of him. Hold onto your memories, cherish them; they won't harm anything. Learn from the lessons he's taught you. If you continue to love this figment of a person though, you're not going to get any better. He's dead. Let it go._

_He's dead...Let it go._ The simple words rang through Harry's mind. Sirius was dead, and he was never coming back.

_Say it aloud, _the voice pushed.

Whispering, his voice barely audible, he said "Sirius is dead. He's not coming back."

_Louder. _

"Sirius is dead. He's not coming back." His voice was wavering, but he continued. "Sirius is dead, he's not coming back."

_You have to believe what you say. Pour your emotion into your words._

As Harry repeated the words, the flood of memories washed through him. He began to accept that his godfather was dead and gone, but it hurt. It hurt much worse than what he had been feeling. But, he felt a bit of the stress lift from his shoulders. It wasn't as much of a burden to constantly wonder if he'd receive another later stating the latest news from the Order, or if his loveable dog face would appear from around the corner, motioning for him to follow and escape this hell hole. With the final admittance, there was relief, but he hated knowing that one of his best friends was never coming back.

Tears streaming down Harry's face, he finally acknowledged them, attempting to wipe them away. He only met failure as the salty drops slipped through his fingers and landed on the sand, gathering into simple, round balls. The voice stayed silent, Harry relieved, yet agitated that he had allowed such an inanimate object to guide his emotions. At the moment though, it was the best option he had, and he was willing to take it if it brought any comfort.

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Hello! To those who have made it this far down the page :) This story is currently under construction. I'm attempting to edit the whole story and try to make it flow a lot smoother. Being that i started this story when i was 17, I didn't have this as planned out as it should've been. There's a lot of mistakes that can be fixed and a lot of loose ends that need to be tied. So, please, tolerate the mistakes in further chapters and hopefully i will soon be able to update and continue the story.

I do not own the cannon, so when i incorporate it into the story, it's simply for plot sake. Not trying to steal J.K. Rowling's work at all.

Let me know what you think, and i hope you enjoy the story from here on out :)


	2. Emotions

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For the next few weeks, the voice didn't say anything to Harry. Harry didn't care, but he could still feel it in the back of his mind. He dealt with the Dursley's the same way he had dealt with them previous years, and tried to let Hedwig out as much as possible. With Sirius gone and unable to communicate strongly with the wizarding world, he felt empty and alone. What purpose did he have any more to live?

_Oh wait... I have to defeat Voldemort. _His friends though, and the battle to defeat the Dark Lord though were a great deterrent from offing himself just yet. He once again began doubting his friendship between him, Ron, and Hermione, and once again came to the conclusion that the Order didn't care too much for him, excluding the sole purpose of keeping him alive until the very end. In that aspect, once more, no one cared for him, which showed he had no purpose to live.

The voice stepped back in at the beginning of July, not helping him feel any better. _You dwell too much on your emotions. I can take you away from all of it; show you how it feels to be human._

_I am human though._

_Yes, but these people you associate yourself with want you to be more than simply human. They're asking you to achieve a lot in supposedly a short amount of time, even if it is your so-called "duty" in life. Let me help you. The first step will be to release your emotions. If you achieve this, nothing will be able to bring you down._

_You told me to let go of the main purpose of my life, and now you're telling me release my emotions? No!_

_If you want to heal and become stronger, you can't tie yourself down. The scars on your arms...They'll never heal if you keep cutting over them. If you release your feelings, your emotions from your mind, you'll only feel physical pain or calmness from your surroundings._

Harry looked at his arms, seeing the white, red, and pink streaks. Now, he had become accustomed to the pain, and he had to lose more blood, create deeper cuts to feel anything. If he got rid of his emotions...the pain would become less tolerant.

_And how do I rid myself of my emotions? _Harry asked in a snide voice, doubtful that a person could achieve anything so mentally drastic. He sat down on his bed, tired of pacing and talking to the voice.

_It's not something that you learn overnight. It's like a farmer planting his crop. First you have to plant the seed, then water it daily, consistently, otherwise the seed gets to hot and dry, and dies. The seed needs nutrients, which it gets from fertilizer and fresh soil. After months of care and watch, the crops can be harvested and sold. This process can take months to perfect, sometimes even years. To some though, it can be much quicker._

_First, you begin by analyzing every emotion. It's easiest if you meditate. When you have the emotions figured out and fully understand its use and where it comes from, you release it. It will take a lot of time to understand every emotion in the human mind. With my help, you will be able to forget about these human attachments and move on. Give it a shot. Relax, pace your breaths, release you muscles, and let your mind flow. _

Harry thought about it, and slowly relaxed. He lay down completely, setting his hands on his chest, closing his eyes. He decided the first emotion he'd work on releasing was grief. With that conclusion, he felt the presence invade his mind, coming forth much more than simply hiding in the back. Harry analyzed the grief and everything that came with it. The worst level was the grief, a very strong emotion that tied him to Sirius. Better than grief though was sadness. Sadness brought disappointment, despair, kept a person close to acquaintances that they didn't really care to hang around with. Better than sadness was pensiveness, which simply kept a person looking down on life, always expecting the worst. Pensiveness led to disproval and remorse, much easier emotions to focus on and work on releasing.

He stayed focused on these emotions, going through how these had affected his life and when. It wasn't an easy task, and this was simply one side of the wheel. Harry became so entrapped within his mind that he didn't feel his magic coursing over his skin like electricity. The voice occasionally slid in, offering gently words of advice, guiding him to what Harry wanted to now achieve.

When Harry felt as if he had accomplished something, he regained control and woke up, his head feeling heavy and sore, his body feeling light and weak. He looked at the cracked clock on his dresser, reading it was a little past four in the morning. The thought of another night of no food crossed his mind, but he wasn't as upset or annoyed about the option as he normally was.

_If you'd like to see how well you've done so far, grab that silver blade. Slide it along your arm and see how it feels. The more it hurts, the more you've accomplished._

Harry complied, wondering how much it would actually hurt. But, he didn't doubt the voice. His adrenaline wasn't spiking as it normally did, but his initial excitement when he saw the blade was a little bit pronounced.

_As you rid yourself of emotions, other emotions are going to try to compensate for what is missing. It'll taper off with time and practice._

A smile crept across his face as he reached into his trunk and found the blade, pricking his finger on the tip by accident. The small point already stung more than normal. _This is going to be fun..._

With a smooth hand, he slid the slender blade across his wrist, over the white marks that failed to heal. Within seconds, the familiar sight met his eyes, but an unfamiliar feeling met his arm, which triggered a reaction in his brain; pain. He stared at his wrist, having a hard time comprehending how this small trickle of blood brought on such a reaction. He needed more. He needed to feel more of this pain. It distracted him completely from his surroundings, took him away from his memories. He cherished how much it hurt, allowed it to consume him. He lost count of how many new marks he made, but he finally became aware of how dizzy he was, the knife falling out of his hand and bouncing on the floor underneath his bed. Finally, his body collapsed and he passed out, a grin on his face.

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Sorry this chapter is so short. It was hard to work with though, but... this is only the beginning of the abuse and teachings :)


	3. Step One

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A thwack across Harry's head slowly woke him. He didn't quite realize what was happening until he was hit once more. He peeled his eyes open, the bright light causing him to cringe and curl up, pain shooting along his right arm. He attempted opening his eyes once more and saw the dried blood streaks coating his skin. He moved his head, seeing his uncle above him, his face red with anger, his aunt behind him looking fearful. "What is that?" his uncle bellowed.

Attempting to wet his throat, Harry responded, "I don't think anything else besides blood can turn this shade of red."

He was smacked a third time on top of the head, harder than the other two times put together. "Don't get smart with me!"

Harry slowly felt as if he was losing grip of reality and of what he was saying. "It's not hard to get smart with you, you obese over sized pug." The words simply slid out of his mouth, his body feeling numb to his surroundings.

Harry saw his uncle's face turn a darker, uglier shade of maroon than he had ever seen. He cringed and before he knew it, his neck was pinned down to his bed by his uncle's broad arm, his breath being cut off.

"Vernon! Let go of him!" his aunt shrieked.

_Probably so Moody doesn't come over,_ he thought with spite. He tried pushing his uncle's arm off his neck, but it only resulted in his cuts ripping open and dripping more blood onto his arm, face, and bed. His heart began racing as his body used up all of the oxygen he had. His vision began slowly closing in and his arms were becoming weaker.

He saw his aunt attempt to pull uncle off, but was doing no more than Harry was. "Vernon, dear, let the boy go!"

"Why? So he can curse me? He wants pain, I'll give him pain. Look at his arm. If he doesn't like life, than why doesn't he cut any deeper?"

He felt his body become heavy, and knew he was going to pass out soon, but it was something he was accustomed with. _Let me help you,_ the voice said, pushing Harry's core part out of the picture. The voice took over his body, making Harry move his arms to instead punch his uncle in the face. He aunt screamed, his uncle giving shaking his head a bit. The voice punched his uncle a few more times before the heavy arm was lifted and allowed Harry to breathe. Slowly, to not go into coughing fits, the voice pulled in air, within seconds Harry able to see everything again.

"You're going to pay for the pain you've put me through, and you're not going to like it. You think you could always mess with me because I'm smaller than all of you beached whales, but I have a power none of your muscles can match up to. I believe you've heard of such a thing called 'magic?'"

Uncle Vernon's defenses went up a little as his face became less fierce. "Oh yeah? Well you'd have to be awake to use your powers, and you'd get expelled."

"Depends on who uses the powers. If Harry used them, he'd be expelled. If I used them...well, you won't live much longer."

_Now it seems like I have a split personality. Thanks, _Harry thought. His uncle though seemed a lot more afraid and confused. "You? Don't you mean Harry? I mean, you are Harry."

"Yes, this is Harry's body, but not his mind. He is watching this, and smiling. He wants me to do something to you, to pay back all those years of torment. 'Revenge is best served cold.' The best revenge is planned over years, the people unsuspecting the entire time. You make perfect examples. As much as I would love to kill you petty little muggles right now, I'm going to let Harry come back out. Step One: treat the problem. Threats generally work best."

Harry felt the voice slide back, and opened his eyes to see his uncle very white, his aunt looking ready to pass out. If Dudley had been in the room as well, Harry would've had to laugh at the scene. They looked like they all just witnessed a mass murder. "So?" He noticed that the voice had a much stronger accent than he did. And the words were more honest and meaningful than his own.

"You...you can just stay up here. It's your room. You can do whatever behind these walls. We'll come give you food three times a day."

He aunt turned first, his uncle right behind her, the door slamming shut. _You really know how to talk, _he thought to the voice.

_I've had a lot of practice. When threatening people, fill your voice with commitment. They'll get the picture, and know you aren't fooling around. With time, you'll learn how people will respond to words. Most often people respond to aggression and fear. Sometimes, people laugh at your words, in which you need to bring in reinforcement to prove your point. You're almost sixteen and you have a lot to learn with what everyone is expecting of you. I can help you start the path of strength, if you will allow me to._

_I do._

With the two words, Harry could tell the voice was smiling, but he didn't really care. He didn't really care about a lot of things. He looked at his arms, and lied down, careful not to make them bleed any worse than they were doing right now. He felt the gentle rivers drip off his fingertips, listening to the small thick splashes of blood hitting the puddles on the ground.

He fell asleep, plagued by dreams of Dumbledore and his last year in review. He didn't hear Hedwig come back, hooting at him to wake up since it was daytime. He didn't hear the flap door open and his food being pushed in, or Hedwig fluttering down to eat it when he didn't respond. A hand appeared hours later, removing the dish and handing in a new bowl. Harry was dreaming about the attack of Mr. Weasley, and how he wanted to bite Dumbledore, to cause him pain like none other, to torment the old mad as he himself had been tormented.

The times where he had kept himself away from everyone had felt the best. He knew he couldn't trust himself, especially around other people. The same feeling was back. But, when Ginny had gone through the same thing...

Harry was pulled into a swirling vortex that wasn't any color. It wasn't really black or white, but it seemed to be dark out of the corner of your eye and white wherever you were looking at directly. _Your friend didn't go through the same thing, _it said, his voice echoing from everywhere.

_In a way she did._

_Yes, in a way, but you have long ago steered off of the path she was on. If you allow me to use your body at times, you will be conscious, whereas she wasn't. I talk to you, you talk back. She did it through a journal. You are helping me and I am helping you. Fair is fair._

Some of the sentences he said threw Harry off. _How do you know so much about my past? About that incident in particular?_

_You memories run through you as well as me. I see, and I think. _

Harry let it go, and simply slept on, not dreaming, the voice plotting and analyzing.

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Enjoy :)


	4. On the Path of Normalcy

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When Harry woke up next, he was starving and his arms were in less pain than before. He heard the cat flap open, and looked over to see once bowl appear and the other one disappear. _Lunch? How long was I out? _He wondered, looking at his watch. July 14th. Harry shook his head. _Three days...damn._

He got up and ate the food in one gulp, and tried the door to see if he could get out. When it opened, he grabbed a change of clothes and slipped down the hall to the bathroom. He was going to clean himself up, and he highly doubted the Dursley's would yell at him for taking a shower. He had been out for three days, he hadn't been eating their food (was that his loss, or theirs?), so what was wrong with suddenly being awake?

Harry took a hot shower that felt very nice against his skin, but he still kept it to a little over five minutes. He was sure the Dursley's were scared of him, but he didn't want to push it. He got out and dried off, his arm looking a lot better with the dried blood cleaned off. Of course they were still pink and very sore, but they still looked better. He went back into his room, sighing at the blood stains. He didn't know how he was going to clean them up.

_Let me, since I don't have to use a wand, and my magic won't be detected. _

_But how? How will your magic not be detected? Since you're using my body, won't it technically be my magic? _

_Because I am older, and because I do carry my own presence. I have enough of my own magic coursing through your mind right now that it will cover up your magic. You won't have to worry about the ministry detecting your magic at all._

_If you say so. _Harry slid back a little in his mind, and as he watched the voice control his body, the cleaning charm was performed on everything. Soon the blood was off of the floor and sheets, Harry coming back in control to finish cleaning up his room. At least that way he had something to do.

_Do you do this for your entertainment?_ The voice asked as Harry was picking up his floor.

_Normally, no, but in this case, yes, since there's nothing better to do. And it needed to be picked up anyway._

He could tell the voice was watching with slight amusement. _Where I lived, my room wasn't allowed to get dirty. I was allowed to have my toys, but I rarely played with them. They were my trophies. Each one had a story behind how it was obtained and why no one was allowed to touch them._

_Why would you keep your toys as trophies? Especially if it was at a young age?_

_Don't worry about the deep reasoning behind it. I simply knew I was different, and I felt I needed to mark the toys as a reminder for each time something happened._

_I see. Why wasn't your room allowed to get dirty?_

_People were always in or out of it, checking up on us. I liked to keep my belongings organized, and for having a clean room, we were rewarded. Though, if I felt like I deserved something that I didn't receive, I knew how to get my way in the end._

_And how did you manage that?_

_I've been able to enter people's mind since a young age and persuade them to do what I've wanted. Muggles are a lot easier to control than witches or wizards, because of the magic barrier. _

_Then why me? Why did you choose me? Because I'm the Boy-Who-Lived? Feeble minded and weak due to the constant stress and pressures of life? Why not leave me alone for a bit and harass my family for awhile? Tell them to not be so harsh with me? To go on a diet for a bit?_

_I chose you because I know you need help. Think of me as some spirit, drifting along. This will only be temporary, but I support your cause. I've made myself a part of you. If I were to leave, it could endanger my being. I could disappear forever, and I'm not ready to pass on yet._

_Wait—you're now a part of me? In my head? A part of me physically as well? What?_

Harry started to become enraged. The voice though, remained calm and collected. _Keep calm. I am trying to help you out, remember? I do not mean you any harm, I promise. I will not mislead you in any direction. If you are to lead the witches and wizards to safety from the Dark Lord, then the greatest of battles must be fought. I am trying to help you, step by step. I didn't allow your uncle to choke you to death, did I? I could have gone and found another body more suitable for physical strength, or a sociopath who already is mentally prepared for destruction. But you, you are the one. You need help, and I am more than willing to be honest and up front with you, and not give you wrap around answers leading only into darkness. Is that clear?_

_Yes, I suppose I see your point. But who are you? You still haven't told me._

_No, I haven't, but in due time I will. For now, you can trust me. Just continue to work on your mental exercises. You still have the depths of anger, disgust, surprise, fear, trust, joy, and anticipation to work on. If you are able to start ridding yourself of those by the time you return to school, you will be well on your way to glory._

Harry couldn't help but laugh aloud. _You're asking me to trust you, yet you are asking me rid my emotions associated with trust? Is this logical?_

_I suppose you are right. Well, when you reach that level, you will be able to seek the answer for yourself._

Harry nodded, finishing up his room. He received his dinner of simple potatoes and crackers, Hedwig taking flight to go out and hunt. When it was dark enough Harry turned on his light, made his bed, and laid on it to look at his clean room. He always enjoyed cleaning his room, whenever felt the necessity to clean it. He decided it was time, and began relaxing his muscles and mind. When he was ready, he focused on surprise. If he was to excel in anything further down the road, surprise was the next emotion that needed to go.

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My apologies for another short chapter. I think eventually they start to get longer...


	5. Step Two

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He was running through the forest, jumping over logs and roots, dodging stray tree branches. He didn't know where he was going. He didn't know if he was being the hunter or the hunted. He thought he was the hunted, but he just kept running. The forest thinned out, coming up to a cliff with a lake very far down. If he jumped or fell, he'd die as soon as he hit the water, if not from the jagged rocks hanging off the side.

He heard someone take a step behind him, causing him to turn around. He took a step back as a reaction, but became defensive as he tried to calm his body down. Voldemort stood in front of him, a grin on his face. "Harry Potter," he said, taking a step forward. "Where are your friends?"

"What're you talking about?" Harry tried his hardest to keep the fear out of his voice. Luckily, he could cover it with anger.

"What? How could you not know? I thought you were their friend. So you mean you haven't seen their mangled bodies? That's very upsetting. Why don't I show you?" Voldemort stuck his arm our, a purple light hitting Harry in the forehead.

Harry fell to his knees, the vision filling him as if he was there examining the two. Ron was lying on his back, eyes wide open and completely white. His red hair was stained scarlet, blood specks covering his hair and the floor underneath him. His face appeared mellow like he had just woken up.

Further down his body, his chest had a hole which barely missed the heart, where Harry could see the pail pink lining. A large puddle of blood though had streamed out from the heart and the corner of a lung was visible. Ron's arms were spread out, his left one bent at a painful angle obviously broken. His right hand looked normal, the wand inches from his fingertips. His pants had blood stains soaked at the hems up to the knees, Harry not wanting to know why.

Hermione was a couple of feet away, her body on its side and facing him. Her brown hair was spread out, face white, her brown eyes glazed over to a dark green. Her wand was still clutched in her right fist, though her left hand had been cut off, Harry next realizing there was a large hole in her abdomen. Unlike Ron who wore jeans, she wore black pants but even then he could see she had the same blood stains. Harry took a step back, not wanting to know what created those types of wounds. He slowly moved around to her backside and saw several long lines, appearing to be welts and cuts. Even though she was dead, they were still bright pink and red, looking fresh.

Harry was pulled back into his own mind, sickened. He was shaking, and looked up at the Dark Lord in fury. _How could he do that to my friends?_ he thought as he stood up, suddenly hot with nausea and anger. _No, I'm not going to go through shock, I'm not! He didn't do anything to me, and I expected something like this!_

"Oh, is that really what you think? That I didn't do anything to you? I didn't just show you what happened to them, I'm also going to make you think that's what is happening to you."

Harry stared at him, wishing this wasn't going on. "What?" he breathed out.

"You heard me, Potter. I haven't been mean to you for awhile, so why can't I start now?"

Harry yelled as pain ripped through his body. He was being whipped and asked what Dumbledore's plans were. When he refused to answer, his arm was broken, soon his left hand being cut off. Rats were soon crawling up his pants and biting his legs, the blood and flesh a feast for them. He was "shot" at as you can say with a spell in his abdomen, the pink ray going right through. He was shot at again, pain ripping through next to his heart. His voice was fading, but his mind wasn't. He wanted the pain to stop, wanted _anything_ to release him from this torment. He was kicked onto his side, Voldemort hitting him with a spell in the back of his head, sending him rolling, landing on his back as the blood started pulling out and draining his life away.

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He was being shaken, yelled at to stop the screaming. Harry snapped his eyes open, the sudden action of life surprising his uncle. "What was that, boy?"

Harry grew dizzy as his uncle's grip tightened more on his arms. If he didn't let go soon, both of his arms were going to be broken. "If you must know, I was dreaming about your face."

His uncle's face changed rapidly to a dark purple. _That has to be a new record, _Harry thought distantly. He could feel the bones beginning to crack under his uncle's crazed strength. His uncle began to shake him so hard Harry was convinced his neck was going to snap. "What did you say boy?"

"Why does everyone say that? You heard me. Want me to spell it out slowly? Or maybe write it down?"

Uncle Vernon took grip of Harry's head and slammed it into the wall, his vision darkening dangerously. His brain stopped moving, especially when it was slammed again. Harry yelled out though his voice was a weak string of noise, but it was about the only function he could do. "I am sick of the shit you put us through boy! You want a bad life; I'll show you a bad life. Your scumbag friends you go to school with baby you up, huh? With the whole goddamn 'Golden Boy, the Chosen One' shit, huh? I hear those freaks you walk with. I'm not deaf."

"It appears you are though." Harry managed to grind out.

Harry was slammed into the wall once more, his head continuing to be pushed through. "But your life wasn't bad until now. Oh, no, you have no idea what pain and torture is. Oh how you have no idea."

_Any second of your help would be greatly appreciated._

Harry felt his mind slide to the back, but he barely noticed. He was in such a pain he thought that when compared to Voldemort taking over his mind, those moments were just pinpricks.

"You better start running old man, before something accidental happens to you. You better release your hand, if you know what's good for you."

Harry could feel the grip tightening even through his daze. "Or what?" his uncle hissed.

"Or I'll curse you so bad you'll be convinced the air is poison and trying to kill you. That or your insides will slowly liquefy, becoming jelly. Your brain will as well, but last, so you can feel your body deteriorate within you, and in the end you won't even be able to control your blinking or breathing." There was a pause. "I like the sound of the second one. The first one is more towards humour, but the second one sounds more like the revenge and torture that suits you. Step Two: Act it out." Harry felt the hand release. "You better run. _Liq..."_

Harry heard thumps, his uncle obviously running back to his room. "Fat bastard," the voice muttered, moving Harry's body back properly into the bed before retreating back to where Harry was. _Harry, are you alive?_

Harry heard him, but he didn't respond. The swirling abyss was growing around him. _Harry, Harry! Respond. Just move or something, open your mouth or blink, to show that you're alive. Harry!_

Harry managed to open his mouth a little bit, before the air rushed out of him.

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When Harry next regained some consciousness, he was surprised he was alive. If it hadn't been for the voice, he probably would have died. He didn't know what was going on between him and his uncle. He was scared of his uncle, but his uncle was scared of the voice. Even through the lack of emotions, the fright was still there. To a point, Harry wished the voice had done the curse he was planning.

He recovered, and it was the beginning of August by the time he could move on his own. _Another lovely birthday,_ he thought with malice. The voice would control his body when it came to getting the food or anything of the sort, but when Harry was in control, he felt all of the pain clearly.

He thought the voice was also happy—or surprised—he was alive. When he had enough strength, he asked the voice, _What would've happened to you if I died?_

_As unlikely as that would have been, since I am well trained in healing, I probably would have killed your family, then go back to where I normally live. If you didn't have me here though, you would have died, and your family wouldn't have realized what they had done. See? You can trust me._

_I know I can trust you. Why do you keep pointing that out? It makes me wearier of being able to trust you. If you know I can trust you, why do you keep pressing it?_

_I'm sorry. It's just a...habit I've never been able to grow out of. I used to ask the kids I grew up with if they trusted me and I did it when I worked with some of the valuables I was able to see. I'd always ask 'Do you trust me to hold it?' and they would say yes, for the most part. I'm sorry though. I'm constantly gaining trust and I'm not one who likes to lose it. _

_I see. I've never really known a person who asked if I trusted them. It's a little weird. _

Days passed, and Dumbledore came to retrieve him two weeks before the term started, and Harry surprisingly convincing a teacher to come out of retirement. Harry could feel the voice smiling, but he wasn't sure why, and he didn't really care. Dumbledore noticed the change, but Harry came up with the excuse of he was just tired since he hadn't been getting much sleep lately, which was partly true. Dumbledore went along, but Harry doubted he bought it.

The voice seemed excited for Harry to leave his house, then go to Slughorn's place, and then to the Weasley's. Harry went to bed after eating some food that Mrs. Weasley put in front of him, but it was hard to eat a lot when his body was use to little portions. She sent him up to bed, but he didn't go to sleep at first. _Why do you seem so excited? _Harry asked, staring at the ceiling of Fred and George's old room, the moonlight shining through the blinds and sending white streaks that looked like wet paint.

_New sights. We get to get out of that godforsaken house of yours. Not much worse than where I grew up, but at least I was able to go outside and have fun._

_I can't figure out where you live. I just...wonder when you talk about it. You make it sound like you lived in an orphanage or a small house with a large family. Or maybe even a mansion, but it's hard to place. _

_I'll tell you everything when the time is right. But who knows, you probably know who I am._

_Is that a good thing or a bad thing?_

_Depends on your point of view._

Harry left it at that, rolling over and going to sleep. He was in such a deep sleep, that when he was woken up abruptly, he forgot where he was, so as a reaction the voice slid into control and grabbed the attackers arm. "Who the bloody hell are you, and why are you attacking me?"

Harry's mind woke up completely, looking and seeing it was Ron. "H-Harry! Are you okay?"

_Its okay, that's one of my friends, _Harry said, fighting to regain control.

_You have friends that hit you to wake you up?_

_Not normally. He's probably just excited to see me. You don't have to get so defensive here. Relax._

_Your emotions are somehow coming back...or...your love. _

Harry frowned, but let it go. Personally, he liked not having his emotions, because everything seemed clearer, and he could think out and around things better. "Sorry, mate," Harry said, Ron's face full of confusion and surprise, Hermione's in shock.

"You woke up pretty fast!" Hermione said, looking in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's...just a reaction."

His two friends stared at him, wonder in their eyes. "Your voice changed too..." Ron commented, the door bursting open so Harry gladly didn't have to answer.

Ginny stood against the door after she shut it, growling. _Who is she?_ the voice asked, Harry not liking it.

_No. No touching. No._

_Okay, okay, I get the point. I was just asking. _

_She is off limits. You'll probably—_

—_learn more from going through your memories. She was the other possessed one, right. I wonder if she still remembers._

_What are you talking about? Hey! _Harry started loosing control of his body._ What are you doing?_

"Hey Ginny," the voice said smoothly, climbing off the bed to go the girl.

"Hey Harry. You...look odd."

She looked at him as he stood over her, gazing into her blue eyes. Harry didn't know what the voice was doing, but he didn't like it. _What the hell do you think you're—_

_Shut up._

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Harry opened his eyes, seeing Ginny crunched into a little ball, full of fright. Ron pulled Harry away, Hermione looking at him, confused. _Ha! The smart one's confused! That's an oxymoron right there, _the voice said pettily.

_What did you do?_ Harry yelled at the voice, just as Ron yelled it at him. Harry looked at Ron, answering, "I, I don't know. I—she—uh..."

He stopped talking, not remembering probably the last minute or so. He looked at Ginny's eyes, then bam, she was on the ground, her red hair clashing with her bleached white face, her dark blue shirt not helping. Her eyes were wide, fearful, never moving from Harry. "Ginny, Ginny! Look at me. It's Ron. What happened? Ginny!"

Hermione spun Harry around, furious. "What did you do to her? I've never seen anyone that frightened before!"

"I was just looking at her, then she was sitting on the ground!" Harry's heart was racing, and he was confused with what was going on. The voice wasn't helping him, and he didn't know how to get out of this with Hermione and Ron staring at him and Ginny crumpled on the ground like a rag doll.

Hermione stared at him, disbelief covering her face like a black powder. "Are you so sure? I don't believe you. If you're lying to me Harry...No."

"Wait, what? Something else happened?"

Hermione continued to stare at him, then shook her head. "I don't even know what to say to you. You are a sick freak, and I don't even know what happened."

Harry shook his head and was about to run out when someone knocked on the door. "'Ello? Is 'Arry in there? 'Ello!"

Harry recognized the voice. "Fleur?" he asked, more to no one in particular.

For some reason, that began to snap Ginny out of whatever she was in. "Whore," she whispered.

She scooted over, face still white. Ron opened the door and Fleur came in, holding a tray of food. "'Ello 'Arry! Eet has been so long!"

She set the tray down, and looked at Harry earnestly. "This isn't a good time, Fleur."

"No! Any time is a good time!"

_As hot as she is, she's kinda a dipshit, _the voice thought. "Fleur, thanks for the food, but it's seriously not a good time," Harry said, though the voice's voice came out instead of his.

Her face fell, but she understood the message and sensed she wasn't welcome. "Oh, okay. I want to talk to you later though, when you can," she said, leaving.

Everyone stared at Harry, who was starting to get sick of it. He just wanted to yell at the voice for whatever...it did. "Everyone, please get out of here. I want to get dressed, unless you care to watch."

Everyone stared at him, Ron showing the most anger on his face. "What happened to you?" he asked, before helping Ginny up and Hermione following them out.

Harry was wondering the same thing. What _had_ happened to him? He wasn't sure anymore, and, he didn't really care. To a point he did, because he didn't want to abandon his friends trust, but... He wasn't sure anymore. He got dressed decently, and opened the window, looking out at the ground. It was a 20 foot drop at least.

_You're not seriously thinking of jumping are you?_

_If I was thinking of killing myself, I'd jump from Ron's room. This is a small drop. I'll live. I've fallen from greater heights and nothing has happened that was too major._ Harry thought back to his third year, when he had fallen during the Quidditch game. Dumbledore had helped him then, but it was still a long way up…

He stood on the windowsill, arranged himself so he was hanging down and just holding on by his hands, then dropped. The impact of the ground made him almost cry out in pain, yet he knew nothing was hurt to bad so he'd heal. He needed to stretch out his muscles, and get the feeling back into them, but that would be within minutes.

_You, Harry, are more of a dipshit than that blonde was. You're lucky you didn't hurt yourself to bad._

_I know, and I don't care. See? The feeling's coming back and the pain is going away. _Harry stood up, walking out his sore legs. _You and I need to talk though. What the hell did you do back there? I've been here for only a couple of hours, and you've already made me look like I've gone insane! Maybe I have, or you have, but I don't want my friends to know about you. If they knew you were inside of me...I don't even want to think about what would happen._

_Okay, so maybe things got out of hand. I'm sorry._

_No you're not. You want trust? This isn't a way to earn it. You're supposed to help me against Voldemort, not turn me against my friends. And why did you knock me out or whatever?_

_I didn't want you to see. If you did, you wouldn't have liked it. _

_Wait... _Harry thought about the last sentence, and yelled. He started running, as far away as he could, while having a death grip on his skull. "No! Voldemort! Get out of my head!"

_Wow, you finally figured it out._

"How could I have been so stupid? Get out! Now!" Harry saw the pond that was near the Weasley's and almost threw himself into it, but Voldemort took control of Harry enough to stop him, and instead of Harry jumping into the pond he fell onto the rocks. "No! Get out of my head! GO AWAY!!"

_SHUT UP! A_s _obvious as it could have been, I was hoping you'd realize this fact later on during the school year. But yes, I'm in your mind, and I have been enjoying this the entire time. _

Harry's body couldn't move, his nails stuck digging into his scalp, blood beginning to come out under his nails. "How could I have been so stupid? Get out!"

_Quiet. Remember, I helped you out at the Dursley's, so you didn't die._

"You used me!"

_Yes, I did, and it's my turn to not care. It was for my personal gain. But, you're going back to the house...building thing, and act like nothing had just happened. If you do something stupid, well, I'll be in control. And if you are a good boy, I'll just make you forget this whole thing happened. If you mess it up, I'll punish you, and then make you forget. Okay?_

"Yes," Harry ground out, suddenly able to move. He stood up, looking at the rocks.

_Walk. If you bash the rocks into your head, you'll pay dearly. _

Harry walked back to the house, unknowing of how to get out of this.

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	6. Step Three

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Harry went through the last two weeks before school started feeling used. He couldn't believe he had fallen for the voice. Maybe he had been so desperate to feel happy he was willing to compromise with anything to feel better. He knew though that there was no way to get Voldemort out of his head. _Why are you still doing this? I know who you are so why do you continue on?_

_Isn't it obvious? You are going to be mine, and there's not going to be a final battle. You will be my slave, and I am going to rule all. Once I'm in your mind after this long, there is nothing you can do to get me out. I am learning everything about you, learning how you live, learning how the school works, and learning how Dumbledore thinks. _

"No!" Harry yelled, running and bashing his head into the wall. He was momentarily stunned, his vision darkening, his head feeling like he had split it open. He heard someone knock on the door and call his name in a matter of seconds, though.

"Harry? Harry! What's going on?"

Voldemort pushed Harry out of the way, answering. "I'm fine. I just tripped. Clumsy sometimes."

The door opened and Voldemort turned, Harry watching helplessly. It was Hermione, peeking around the door. "Are you sure you're okay? You yelled, and it sounded like you hit something hard."

"I'll be fine. I'll see you in the morning."

"Remember to get up early. School starts tomorrow."

"That's right. Good night."

Hermione shut the door, Voldemort's mind turning to Harry. _You're going to regret that, Potter. Remember, I can come in and invade when you least expect it and control you. Step Three: Take action. I've warned you and I've threatened you, but with your next false move, I'm taking action._

Harry swirled into a darkness of sleep as the monster decided it was time to rest. When Harry woke up in the morning, he barely had enough time to take a short shower after he discovered blood holding his hair down. He saw the stain on the pillow, Voldemort coming out and cleaning it up. As Harry rushed through the shower the water stained red, changing from the dead maroon to the fresh crimson. His head stung and he found where he had hit it open. He got out, dressed, then grabbed his things and brought them outside, everyone rushing and piling into the cars and taking off after they were all settled. Harry could feel Voldemort smiling, eager as a young puppy to go play outside and experience new sights.

Harry remained silent for the majority of the ride, refusing to look out the windows to refresh Voldemort's mind of the path to the Train Station. _Do you want to know me as the voice in your head again? _

_No._

_Then look out the window. If you don't, I'll force you. I'll give you such a pain, you'll hurt to move, to make a sound, and no one will look or question you. _

_No._

_Fine. Have it your way. _

Harry felt the pain and was about to gasp except his mouth stopped moving as he began to open it, his breath pausing. The pain reminded him of when Voldemort had first possessed him, only it was starting to become worse than that. His head was ready to burst open and he could feel the throbbing of the cut against his brain. It felt like his head was going to rip apart, like ripping a piece of tape. Easy if you've done it a lot, or have found the right spot. Voldemort was ripping the right spot slowly, Harry's vision darkening as he was pulled back into the swirling vortex of his mind. _You are very stubborn. You know that right?_

Harry didn't respond, but after a burst of pain he nodded.

Voldemort laughed. _Yes, I shall have fun learning your life and making you my loyal subject. But I am getting sick of you knowing who I am. I was going to do this while you slept, but you're being bothersome now. _

Without any warning, Harry felt his mind crush agonizingly, causing him to collapse. Soon a light was in front of him, heading towards him instead of him heading towards it. He opened his eyes, seeing Hermione looking down worriedly at him.

"Are you okay?" she asked, brown eyes wide, Ron looking at him from Hermione's side.

"Yeah, I guess I must have dozed off. Sorry."

He sat back up, shaking his head. _Are you alright? _the voice asked.

_What? Yeah, no problem. Why?_

_Nothing. You just seem tired. You need to clear your mind before you sleep. You'll then sleep much better and you won't dream. _

_Why would someone care about my dreams? I fail at Occlumency anyway and I don't care to learn it again._

The voice sighed. _You never know. The Dark Lord has many times seen your mind. Would you want him to do it again?_

_No. Is there an easy way of learning Occlumency though?_

_Yes, but such a way that your professor's wouldn't approve of. _

_I don't care. What is it?_

_Sleeping potions._

_

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_

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	7. An Exchanging of Words

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_Wait, how are sleeping potions bad? _

_If you use them excessively enough, most people tend to become addicted to them, as well as they mess up your sleeping habits. At first you sleep normally, but after you consume the potion more than a certain amount of times, you begin to sleep longer and you'll love the sleep. The more you take the potion, the longer you sleep and the more you want to sleep. Eventually, you put yourself into a coma that you have a slim possibility of ever coming out of._

Harry mentally flinched. _Okay...but how do I counteract that?_

The voice chuckled._ The way you counteract it is by rationing the potion to certain times of the week. If you want to use it, you have to take it every other night, Monday through Friday. The weekends are kind of your recovery time, so you don't take it then. It might not mean a whole lot now or make much sense, but if and when you start it, everything will clear up. _

Harry nodded mentally and looked out the window to the cars driving down the highway. They were going to be at the station soon, and then off to Hogwarts. _Wow, Hogwarts, _the voice said. _It's been awhile since I've last been there. Fifteen years, maybe. _

Harry was surprised. _You went there?_

_Of course. Out of the three schools this side of Europe, Hogwarts is normally everyone's first choice. I don't remember how long ago though since I've graduated... After I graduated, I left to explore the world. The more I count, the older I feel. _

_Do you enjoy dropping hints to me of who you are?_

_I didn't realize I was doing that. I'll stop. I'll have you figure me out when I let you. A lot of people don't know a lot about my past, so I suppose I want you to know, though once you figure out... Well, I'll tell you more about it later._

Harry noticed that the party had reached the station, everyone piling out slowly so it wouldn't look odd having more people coming out than the car should have been able to hold. Everyone gathered carts and pushed them towards Platform 9¾, Harry walking onto the platform more of an unconscious act, the many years before already a habit. He went through the barrier, the voice laughing. _How I always loved that part. All of that magic, making it appear solid while it isn't. I will master that. I will learn how it works. The tricks of the old will be mine. _

Harry mentally shook his head, thinking, _well, the wall becomes solid after noon. I figured that out the hard way my second year..._

The voice nodded and Harry soon boarded the train, people calling out to him. He ignored everyone and went towards the back of the train, sitting with the usual gang, only now including Luna. On the ride to the school, Harry noticed before Ron and Hermione that Ginny never joined them.

"That's odd. Ginny usually sits with us," Ron pointed out obviously once the train moved out of the station and entered the countryside.

"Are you really that dull to forget what Harry did to her?" Hermione pointed out obviously as well.

"I didn't do anything. She did it to herself," Harry replied, not taking his eyes off of the passing trees and farm houses.

"Bullshit she did it to herself!" Ron yelled, grabbing Harry's arm.

"Don't touch me," he said coolly, Ron's eyes widening, his hand releasing. Harry didn't know why Ron freaked out like that. The voice had come out right there, but it was just the voice, not the presence itself...

The topic was dropped, Ron and Hermione continuing to talk, and very plainly meaning to exclude Harry from any of their conversations which he was very happy to oblige with. If any question or comment was pointed at Harry, he never answered unless they had said his name first and then asked. He could tell later on when they were closer to the school that the two were worried, annoyed, and maybe even slightly angry with him. He didn't care though; there was nothing left in him for them, except maybe the love which the voice had seemed to hide. To him, they were mostly just people among the vast crowds of society.

"Harry! Are you listening to us?" Ron called, Harry not turning towards him.

"Should I?"

"You can't answer a question with a question."

"Fine."

"Or a statement with a statement."

"Try me."

He could hear Hermione sigh and ask, "Neville, Luna, can you leave for a second please? Not to be rude, but the only rude person here is Harry, and we intend to find out why."

Out of the reflection of the window he saw Neville nod and Luna slide off of the bench and glide over to the door. When Harry heard it lock, Hermione and Ron jumped in front of him, forcing him to acknowledge that they were there. "What?" he asked, growing a different form of...annoyed. Was it him or the voice? _Right, if I feel any "emotions," I kind of get them from other people, right?_

_Yes, if you want to put it that way. But only if you allow yourself to. It's one of the ways to stop you and other people who have discarded their emotions from going insane. Emotions are what build an individual, and if you take them away they will most likely go insane. If you think you feel the stronger emotions from me or from the people around you, it will stop you from becoming losing your mind. Unless you cut yourself off from people completely, then you're screwed, or so you young kids say today._

"What happened to you?" Ron burst out, face red with anger, drawing Harry away from the voice.

Harry turned back to the people he thought were friends. "Why do you ask that?" Harry asked, his face and voice calm and expressionless.

"You did something to frighten my sister, you have random screaming bouts, you disappear for hours on end, you barely eat, and you won't talk to anyone!"

"Oh. I suppose that _is_ a lot of things. Good job remembering that, Ron."

Hermione tackled Ron to keep him from punching Harry. Harry though had the same smirk on his face that the voice had. "And you, Hermione? What do you have to say?"

She looked at him, surprised at first, but she quickly overcame it. "What Ron said was true, but... What happened to you? You've changed completely. You talk...differently sometimes, and you're always cutting people down."

"Yeah, how can someone save the world and be such a prick?!" Ron yelled out from under Hermione.

"Fuck off," Harry said, staring back out of the window.

"And how would you mean by that, Potter?" someone asked from the doorway, Harry turning slowly and looking at Malfoy calmly. "Do you mean that literally or figuratively? Because with the prick comment, I would think literally."

"And what does this mean to you Malfoy? Are you suggesting that Ron and I hook up together? If you are, I think you'd be jealous. You call me a prick all the time and I say fuck off, the same vice versa. So, does that mean that you are suggesting that you and I get together, Draco? Would I be a better boyfriend, a better fuck than you get from that pussy? Sorry, I meant Pansy. She reminds me a little too much of my family, so an insult comes out naturally. If that, though, is your hidden meaning, I'll gladly take the offer. If that's not what you mean, then I'll offer it to you."

Malfoy stared at him, speechless. Harry decided to take advantage of this moment. He wondered how far he could push Malfoy's buttons. "Or, am I just a toy for you to push around? Do you see me as an object to make you feel like the big bad bully? Or do you like me showing you the gains and losses—mostly losses in your world—of life? Do you see me as a person even, who suffices to your own personal pleasures or needs? If that's the way then, are Crabbe and Goyle not good enough for you if you're not fucking Pansy? If that's the case, then why would you think I'd be any better?"

Harry watched his confusing logic wind around Malfoy's head. Once Malfoy seemed to comprehend what Harry had said, his face turned a deep garnet color, the color fading in spots to pink and white. "Burn," Harry said with a smirk, causing Malfoy to explode.

"You think you're so goddamn special? You and you're fucking golden-boy shit? You may have landed my father in prison, but he's going to get out, just you wait and see. And you better start watching yourself Potter, because I'm going to make you pay very dearly, and I hold truth and honesty in my words. Have you ever heard of the three lessons?"

"Yes, and I've used them, as well as had them used against me. So you're not the first, nor the last."

"I don't care. As long as you know of them. You better know that step three is going to hit you hard. And you don't know where or how bad. Every word I've spoken is holding true, so you better be afraid."

"Oh, I'm shaking Malfoy. Is this going to be by yourself, or is your big bad daddy from prison going to help you? I know he's going to get out, but I don't care. I can throw him back in. Same with Voldemort, except I'm going to kill him. Or, is this some kind of stunt that you want to do to gain recognition from the Dark Lord? Petty Malfoy, very petty. You're an elementary bully who knows magic."

Malfoy was now shaking with anger, causing Harry to smile. Crabbe and Goyle looked like dogs with rabies, ready to bite someone's heads off—literally. Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, seeing them shocked and even slightly scared. Both were white, mouths open, eyes wide. Hermione even looked close to tears.

"You mark my words Potter. You. Will. Pay. For. Everything. You're going to be paranoid by the end of this."

Harry started laughing, the laugh cold and meaningless. "I've never dealt with anything that involved paranoia and it's to late for that. Nothing you can do will hurt me Malfoy. Keep that in mind. You'd have to kill me to prove something, but when I'll care is after I'm dead."

Malfoy turned and stormed out, slamming the door shut. The glass didn't break, but Ron and Hermione seemed shocked into silence. Harry turned and stared out the window, ignoring the two at his feet. Finally, Hermione filled the airtight silence. "What was that?" she whispered. "I've never seen you two go at it like that before. Those were some of the best and meanest remarks I've ever heard. You've had some good ones, but you even surprised Malfoy. This just goes back to how you've changed so much. And, I'd be afraid of Malfoy if I were you, Harry. He meant his words."

"And I meant mine. Fair trade."

There was another moment of silence, Ron breaking it by saying, "I'm going to find Neville and Luna. I think we'll need to change after that." He stood up, Hermione having a hard time of deciding whether to stay or leave, but finally decided to follow Ron after the empty look Harry gave her. When the two left, Harry sighed, leaning his head against the cool glass.

_You were amazing. Very good come backs. Mostly on your own, a small bit coming from me. You surprised me, and, apparently yourself. _

_In a way, yes, I did surprise myself. A lot. But, all I have to say is, I feel weird. Like I should care, and I should be scared, but I'm not. It all makes sense to me, so I'm not confused, but I should be. _

_This is what happens when you give up your emotions. Everything either makes sense or it doesn't. Stay with the parts that make sense and you'll be fine. _

_And... Hermione and Ron. I was mean to them, but I didn't care. What does Ron mean with what I did to his sister? I only talked to her once, and she's been avoiding me ever since. What's wrong with me asking 'hi'?_

_It's an interesting case that the two are making a bigger deal out of than they should be. Don't think about it. _

The door slid open, Hermione, Ron, Neville and Luna returning. The group changed into their robes, the darkness pressing upon them while the train slowly decreased its speed. Everyone rushed to grab their things, Harry knowing he didn't need to hurry. He was the first one in the compartment to finish dressing, so he slid open the door to join the rest of the kids who were ready to get off onto the platform.

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	8. Mental Breakdown

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Harry was standing in one of the doorways, ready to step off the train onto the platform when he got pulled back, the trunk yanked out of his hand. He looked over and saw Malfoy, who led him over to an empty compartment while Crabbe held his hands behind his back and Goyle dragged the trunk.

"Potter, you're gonna pay." Malfoy punched him hard in the nose, Harry gasping as pain swept through his face. Crabbe and Goyle started guffawing, Crabbe letting go of him. Malfoy pushed Harry onto his back, then petrified him. "Go make sure no one's coming," Malfoy said to the dimwitted duo, who left. Malfoy opened Harry's trunk and rummaged through it, finding something and pulling it out. It was Harry's invisibility cloak. _That's my father's cloak! Get your filthy hands off of it! _

"As much as I would like to take this from you, I figure I can get it somewhere else where it's not tainted by someone of your status. Buying one beats seeing your fucking face anytime."

The cloak was thrown over Harry, as the train gave a slight lurch, the engines starting back up. "Have fun with the muggles...If you ever get off this train."

Malfoy ran off, Harry fuming, unknowing of where this anger came from. _You don't know any way to get out of this, do you?_

_Yes I do, but it wouldn't work._

_And why not?_

_Because I'm not strong enough yet to use my magic in Hogwarts, through you._

_You've got to be shitting me. Are you serious?_

_Yes, and it makes me mad too._

Harry felt the train lurch again and heard the compartment door open. He saw Tonks, who saw his trunk. She felt around, bumping into Harry's leg. She pulled the cloak off, and muttered the counter-curse to the spell on Harry. "Come on, we need to go. I'll fix your nose when we get off."

They both grabbed a handle on the trunk, Harry noticing that Hedwig wasn't there. He felt...not quite stupid, but a form of it. _Hopefully Ron or Hermione grabbed her_ he wished. The two walked to the door and pushed it open, the train gathering speed and the platform coming to an end.

"Jump!" Tonks yelled, the two going off almost together.

They stumbled, a couple feet from the end of the platform. Tonks waved her wand, the trunk floating a couple of feet off of the ground. "I may not be able to fix your nose, but I can at least help it..._Episkey._" Harry felt his nose grow very hot, then very cold. He felt it, and it seemed to be normal.

Harry said his thanks, and noticed Tonks wasn't looking any better from the last time he saw her. He shrugged it off and didn't mention anything as they walked back to the castle. She sent her message to Dumbledore, and met Snape at the gates, who looked "pleased," to say the least. Harry stared at him coldly, Snape returning the look, with a smirk. "You better watch it Potter. Don't want to lose any points the first couple of minutes back."

"Fuck off Snape. I haven't done anything worthy of your attention, nor will I ever. If I had, I would've joined Slytherin. It was an option, you know."

Snape's smirk slid off like liquid on plastic, but he didn't say anything further. Instead he chose to pick on Tonks, and then led Harry to the school. Harry walked into the school and away from Snape, a house elf meeting them and taking Harry's trunk, which he was forced to drag since they left Tonks.

Harry walked into the great hall, people turning and staring at him, Harry unnoticing. Though he did notice the voice wanting to look around in every direction. _Wow, it's been forever, _the voice said. _So much has changed, yet nothing has. The oxymoron of the century. _

_Well, it's probably not any different._

Harry saw Ron and Hermione, sitting next to them more of a habit than anything. "Harry! What happened to you?!" she asked, people still staring.

"What? The blood? Oh, I didn't notice. I suppose Snape didn't say anything so he could see what my reaction and everyone else's was when I walked in."

Harry took his wand, clearing the drying blood off of his face and clothes. He caught the end of the dinner, then followed the rest of Gryffindor to the dorms. He decided to just head straight to bed, and not deal with anyone. If he didn't like being around people, this year was going to be a lot harder than he thought. In a way, he felt claustrophobic with everyone. He laid on his bed, the trunk at the end. The curtains were pulled around him protectively, but he wanted to be sitting in the moonlight.

He remembered what Hermione had told him and sighed. _Hermione is right. And same with Ron. I have changed. A lot. All because of you. They make sound like it's for the worse, but I don't think so. Or, you don't think so. You say you can help me, take away the pain. It worked on Sirius, but what about any and everything else?_

_You seriously need a journal if you're going to be talking like that. But, then again, I guess I can be a journal that talks back—like in your second year. Calm down, I took that from your memories. _Harry relaxed, staring at the red canopy above him. _I did help you, and it was for the better. And, unless you want someone else you care about to die, then the core part of your emotions that you and I got rid of isn't going to be in use what so ever._

_But that's the main reason why I got rid of my feelings! If nothing terrible is going to happen, why can't I have my emotions back then?_

_You'd rather be angry, depressed, happy, jealous, scared than just nothing? I'd stay with the nothing and stay sane, thank you very much. _

Harry had forgotten about everything else besides happy and depressed. _True, but will it come in handy? Like if someone else dies, or something happens to me, it'll slide right off?_

_Yes, and you won't care. You'll just notice and pay attention to it at the time, but not care later. Think of it this way. It'll be like a smart student answering all the questions so no one get's in trouble. You pay attention at the time, but you don't care afterwards. You don't learn anything._

_Ha, Hermione._

_Yes, like that. And that's how you'll feel towards a person who died, or something that happens to you. Except, maybe a little more feeling, since you still have some love. _

_Ha, yeah, I do. Maybe that's to remind me of who I still am inside, deep down, and what my real purpose is. _

_I can take care of it for you..._

_No. It's what shows people that I'm still Harry Potter and not some imposter._

_If you want..._

_I know what I want. _Harry rolled onto his side, than sat up and decided to pull on his pajamas. He looked at the ledge next to the window, and went over. He sat down, pulling his knees up to him, circling his hands loosely around his knees. He relaxed and let out his breath, almost feeling like his old self. He was just tired. _Physically, emotionally...haha, not. Feels like it though,_ _and mentally, definitely. I just want this to all end, _he thought, looking out across the grounds, the moonlight landing across his body. Harry closed his eyes, drifting back into thought. _It's all...still sudden. So much has changed. Part of it I wanted to change, and I'm...happy...I did, but, it's to...fresh still. I've having a hard time still grasping the concept of what I've done. When I'm talking and making comebacks, I understand, but...It's still too hard._

He opened his eyes, looking back our across the grounds, over the trees and lake, over the world it seemed. He wanted to fly, and from this height he knew he could experience it...

_No! You're having a mental breakdown! You've done too many things in a short span of time, and once you start realizing it, you start to collapse in on yourself. You'll be fine after you sleep. You just need to become accustomed to it. It takes time, more than two months. You've given up a large part of your mind, of your old self. It's not that easy to blow off the change. Common thoughts of suicide are generally a sign when you're not dealing with it well. Two months though, that's a long time without any reactions. Just go and sleep. You'll feel better in the morning._

Harry slowly looked away from the grounds, pausing as he saw Ron in the doorway. He tensed, as Ron sighed. "I saw the old Harry right there, but he went back to what he is today. A sight for sore eyes, you could say."

Ron went over to his bed, while Harry went to his own, closing the curtains and asleep in seconds.

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hehe, chapter 8, and it's only been 10 days!!!!!!!!! haha, right off the...umm...computer, i guess. I hope everyone is enjoying this story as much as me. I'm totally loving it, and everyone who reviews, and thanks everyone!!!!!!!!!!!!!! so yeah, thank you thank you people for reading this and reviewing cus you're totally making me happy and loved...XD yep, totally love y'all, and now that summer's here i get sooooo much more free time to write. I'm soo happy!!!!!!!!!!! lol, w00t for freetime...hehe. Until next time!!!! and sorry this is a shorter chapter...sort of... ----and this is NOT malfoy's revenge. omg, that chapter's later on, but his revenge is sooo cruel...hehe. yeah, shutting up now...


	9. Fights and Friends

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He was staring down at her, smiling. She had huge eyes, the blue filled with fear. His own eyes were absorbing her emotions. Her eyes started relaxing, and he knew he had her. He filled her mind with memories, made her remember the pain she went through. She had been used by him, all because she wanted him as a friend.

He gave the memories back to her, the full picture, and every emotion she had every felt. The happiness, then the confusion, then the sadness, and finally the distrust. But that had taken to long for her, and by then it was too late. Ginny was his servant. She killed the chickens mercifully wrote the threat notes, and put herself down in the dark chambers of his other servant, just to make Tom happy. And he enjoyed every second of her suffering, especially when she started catching on to what was happening. She knew he enjoyed it, in the end. He let her know that, her eyes growing wider.

He embedded the memory, the thought that let her know he enjoyed every second of it, or course after Harry came along. Ginny figured it out though by herself. And now she was scared of him. She had every reason though, too. But she was confused, confused on who to hate. Should it be Harry, the other Harry? It didn't matter though; she was too scared to try to figure out the difference between the two. That decision though could be a bad choice, a very bad choice...

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"Harry, you'll be late if you don't get up," someone called to the still sleeping teen, causing Harry to wake up, the dream fading fast. He was breathing hard, a cold sweat covering him. He sat up, putting a hand to his head, the other searching for his glasses. He noticed Ron bending downwards, looking at him. "You okay mate?"

Harry didn't feel like arguing. "I'm fine. I don't feel good. I didn't sleep very well."

"Oh, well, you were hard enough to wake up."

"Well, I can also wake up on my own too."

"Unless you want to be late to class. Sorry if I woke you up in the middle of something important. I won't do it tomorrow."

"Good, I appreciate it," Harry replied, Ron shaking in head.

"I try to be nice, but you turn out to be an ass. I only woke you up because I thought your pissy attitude would go away now that we returned to the school. But I guess not. If you're not careful, you're not going to have any friends soon."

"I wouldn't care. I think it'd be for the better. Maybe then you'll stop being jealous, and be able to become popular on your accord. Hermione's a genius, I'm the golden-boy, so what are you? The sidekick? The second youngest Weasley kid? Or nothing?"

Ron stared at him, unable to think of anything. "It's funny when you threaten someone other than your friends, or cut them down. But, it hurts. It goes way down. I hope you know that."

"I do. No need to worry."

Ron growled and walked out, his hands in tight fists. Harry dressed, walking into the great hall ten minutes later, grabbing a piece of toast before it disappeared, and got his schedule from McGonagall. He choked as he saw he was taking potions, but the version of surprise he had diminished. He sighed and went to his classes, having a hard time not automatically sitting next to Ron and Hermione.

Harry didn't know what to do. He didn't know if he should force his friendship with Ron and Hermione, or just blow them off and act like nothing had happened. If they were all friends though, then he might be able to use them if he ever needed too. But after what he said to Ron, he wasn't so sure.

He went into the Defense against the Dark Arts room, Snape's possessions littering the room. It would've given a normal person the shivers, and make them depressed, compared to the other past teachers. Quirrell made the room feel protected, Lockhart made it colorful, Lupin made the room fascinating, Moody made you weary, and the bitch from last year had the room boring. _Ever since I've come here and asked for this job, no one has managed to stay a full year, at least since you've started. _

_You wanted to work here?_

_Oh yes, I was very eager to have the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. It fascinated me like none other, and I was convinced I'd be the best and like no other teacher around. But Dumbledore didn't trust me enough. I wonder if he ever regrets having me leave? _

_So you had a lot of experience out and abroad?_

_Yes, many experiences. I learned a great amount of knowledge from each excursion, but some were terrible experiences, while some were amazingly remarkable. _

Harry seemed surprised, and sat down next to Dean and Seamus, seeming to force himself. He'd give Ron a little more time to cool down. When Snape started the class, he spoke to them in the same harshness, but also in a loving way about the dark arts. The very first thing they had to practice, though, was spells on each other without speaking. _I used to be so good at these, but, the skill fades if you don't use it for a long period of time. You forget how to do it, or the spells don't come out right. Then it takes practice to get back into it. _

Harry nodded, and somehow ended up paired with Ron. They sent attack after attack at each other, the only way to block the spells being to whisper at least. Harry noticed Hermione mastered it first, but as Harry had the feeling he was accomplishing it with the voices help, Snape used him as an example. In his defence of the spell Snape sent at him, he yelled "_Protego!_"

He watched Snape fly back, and crossed his arms with a smirk on his face as Snape finally stopped by landing on a desk. He got up, staring at Harry. "Potter! We're supposed to be practicing _silent_ spells, not verbal!"

"I know. I just didn't feel like having you curse me. What was the curse? Something for revenge, or something for enjoyment? I could think of spells that you would love to use that would fall under each category."

Snape looked like he didn't know how to answer. He looked like he was deciding to punish Harry, or see where this conversation was going. "And what spells would you think I'd use?"

"Oh, any of the unforgivable curses, except for the killing curse, since it's saved for your master to use on me—" A quick flutter of emotion came from the voice, but it disappeared before Harry could figure it out. "—or any curses that would allow you to get inside my head and bring me to my knees, showing everyone how I'm such a weakling. Apparently the curse was strong since my shield blocked it and sent you flying...literally."

Snape glared at him, Harry only noticing him. He erased his face of any emotions, and put it in his eyes. He kept on the empty smirk for effects, but he let Snape know that the old Harry he could push around was gone, and a different one that would stand up to him had entered.

Snape lost a little color in his already pale face, but said, "Detention on Saturday, Potter." He didn't even try to threaten, he just said it.

The bell rang soon after, and Harry headed straight to the potions room, not even waiting for anyone. He received a note from Dumbledore though, for a meeting on Saturday. The voice seemed to purr with excitement. _And why are you so excited?_

_I haven't seen him for so long, but, I can't come out and take control over you otherwise he'll be suspicious of you, and nothing will turn out nicely. H__e could remember me, and start asking questions. Questions aren't good. _

Harry shrugged, reaching the doors of the potions room and opening them, finding them unlocked. He looked around, noticing Slughorn had made the place not as dreary. There were numerous large things adding color to the stone walls, along with certain cauldrons bubbling and filling the room with different smells. Harry saw Ron and Hermione, and noticed they must have gotten ahead of him when the kid gave Harry the note.

He walked up to Ron and Hermione slowly, both turning, and as Harry opened his mouth to apologize to Ron for earlier that morning and how he acted, Ron punched him across the face. Harry fell to the ground, his lip split and his nose bleeding. "You asshole! I was going apologize for my outburst this morning. So what if I'm still a little pissy from this summer?"

Harry got up and jumped on top of Ron, knocking the two of them to the ground. They started punching each other, yelling random things, cutting off when they punched each other in the jaw. "Am I nothing now? What about when I kick the golden-boy's ass?"

"The fate of the world is in my hands, dipshit! You'd be screwed if I was killed or teamed with Voldemort!"

Ron froze for a second, but continued, starting to kick when Hermione tried to pull them apart. He hit Harry across the jaw, Harry stopping, his jaw feeling like it was in splinters. Harry moved and hit Ron across the jaw as well, ignoring whoever was around them. Harry decided to stop holding back and fought off of pure hatred, the voice helping fuel him. He punched Ron in the stomach twice, then was planning on hitting Ron square in the nose, but got pulled back.

He struggled, but noticed it was Slughorn, and the student's had quieted down. He realized now that everyone had been watching eagerly, and shouting things at them. "Boys! What could have started such a thing?"

Harry stared at Slughorn, then at Ron. "No one. It was all a misunderstanding. We both needed to hit each other."

Harry made sure Ron could see he wasn't saying that to cover their asses, but just to not get in trouble. Slughorn shook his head, then said, "Okay, I'll take that this time, but anymore fights, and you'll have a stream of detentions that you'll see no end to. Now, go clean yourselves up."

Harry and Ron nodded, heading up to the hospital wing. It was silence on the way up, and while Madam Pomfrey fixed them up. It took a couple of minutes, and then a few more to clean the blood off of themselves. When they were walking back towards the potions room, Ron asked, "Why did you say what you did to Slughorn if you were lying?"

"I didn't want to get in trouble."

Harry continued walking forward, not looking at Ron. The redhead though, seemed confused. "Were you really going to apologize to me? After you started hitting me, I wasn't sure."

"I don't know. Maybe at the time. I got you talking to me though."

"But you're still being cold."

"Distant." Harry, out of the side of his vision, saw Ron looking at him. He sighed and said, "I don't know how to explain it. I don't care to be around people."

"And why not?"

_He's treading onto dangerous ground, _the voice said, pulling Harry from control.

_What are you doing?!_

_Getting you out of this hole without blowing everything. _The voice spoke, stopping and looking squarely at Ron. "Because I'm sick of people like you playing twenty questions with me to try to figure me out. Why this, why that. You and Hermione never stopped bugging me!"

Harry mentally smacked his forehead. _There goes the patch I had been working on._

"There it goes again—that voice. That's what Hermione and I meant by your voice changing."

_Try to get out of this one,_ Harry thought, wondering what was going to happen.

"It only happens when I'm agitated and annoyed. For future warning."

Ron continued looking at him, as Harry was put back into control. "Well, when you were yelling at Malfoy, and when you spoke to me this morning, your voice didn't change."

Harry looked at Ron in the eyes, harshly, saying "Drop it, okay? We're done on this subject."

Ron was the taller one, but with the glare that Harry was giving him, Ron seemed a lot shorter and a lot younger. "Okay, sorry. I was only asking in hope to know what happened."

Harry turned and continued walking, the classroom in sight. "You might know what happened. You might not. If you don't know, you don't want to know."

Harry walked into the room, everyone bent over their cauldrons, adding ingredients and stirring furiously. Slughorn came up to them, and told them what they were doing. "But, we don't have any text books or supplies since we weren't expecting to take this course," Harry explained, Slughorn shaking his head at them.

"Don't worry about it. Borrow whatever you need for however long until you get your own supplies."

_Psychotic bastard, _Harry thought. _Does he even remember about the fight we had?_

_He probably does. Slughorn is an interesting character. He's brilliant, and a total player despite his looks. Thinks only of himself. _

_Obviously, _Harry thought, grabbing one of the ruined textbooks and grabbing the supplies he needed. The book he had though, had numerous things scribbled out and it's own corrections. Harry started following the old owners directions, and found them to be shortcuts. Soon he caught up to Hermione, and with twenty-five minutes remaining, had no worries. He passed her, and at the end of the period had the best potion. Hermione was angry, Ron was dumbfounded, the Slytherin's were pissed, and Slughorn was happy that Harry seemed to have his mother's potion skills.

Harry hid the prize in his trunk, his head spinning in the emotions he thought he was feeling. After getting halfway down the great hall, he turned around and headed back to the dorms. He went and sat on the ledge overlooking the grounds, thinking of flying away from everything, the voice watching his thoughts.

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okay, well, there's chapter...9. w00t. lol. well, yeah...i have no idea how long i want this story to be. Even though in writing i'm on chapter like, 18 or something like that XD (which isn't even close to being typed up) i have no idea if i want this to be super super long, or maybe in two parts. i have no idea...but whatever. i'll figure it out...eventually. hope u liked this semi-short chapter...and stuff. teehee. 


	10. An Internal Battle

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a/n...just by the way, yeah, i dont own harry potter or anything, since i have a major scene from the book in this chapter...so yeah, just, btw... XD but i wish i could own it...hehehehe

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Harry woke up, unaware how he had gotten into his bed. He just remembered...fading out from looking outside. _Did you put me in my bed? _he asked the voice.

_Yes, you needed the sleep. I wish you were having this breakdown in August, before you came here. That way, you could sleep the proper amount you need. With all these people around you though, you are open to everything, yet everything keeps your mind busy. _

Harry looked past his curtains and out the window, seeing it was a little past dawn. He laid in his bed, comfortable, in between sleep and being awake. When he started hearing people getting up, he opened his eyes, the sun shining. He went through the day, not getting into trouble and starting to get loads of homework. His relationship with Hermione and Ron was patched, so to say, but it was hard to hang out with them to long without getting "annoyed."

His head was still spinning with the lack of emotions, which caused him to make comments that were useful, or was rejected with a look of "what the hell were you thinking?" He was having more visions of flying and when he mentioned it accidentally, Ron shook his head and claimed Harry was having withdrawals from his broom. "Next Saturday you're having tryouts, right?"

Harry looked up from his parchment, a corner of the piece having a picture of the grounds with clouds high above. "Yeah, I guess."

"You don't sound excited," Hermione commented.

Harry shrugged, looking back to Snape's homework. When Hermione reminded him that he had his appointment with Dumbledore, Harry packed his books away, the voice suddenly having such a blast of excitement that it caused Harry to black out, the emotion filling him like helium in a balloon. His dream of flying disappeared, and he was considerably happier than he had been since he...gave away his emotions. He felt someone shaking him, and opened his eyes to see Hermione and Ron above him.

"Are you alright Harry?" Hermione asked.

He couldn't get the smile off of his face. He was giddy and felt like skipping. "Yeah," he answered, still smiling as he gathered his books. "I feel great. I haven't felt this good in a long time."

He went up the stairs to put his things away, then went back downstairs, still having the stupid smile on his face, leaving everyone confused. He went on his way to Dumbledore's office, calming down once more to not look suspicious, according to the voice. He knocked, Dumbledore telling him to "Come in."

Harry walked into the office, nothing looking any different than the last time he was in here. A lot of the things he had broken were fixed, and placed back in their rightful spot.

"Ah, Harry, good evening. First things first. Your detention with Professor Snape is scheduled for next Saturday. Will that be okay?"

Harry nodded, looking at Dumbledore, wondering what was scheduled for the night. _Can't be any battle practice..._the voice muttered, but also expectant. "Sir, if I may ask, what do you have planned for tonight?"

"Well, I have decided that it is time now, that you know what prompted Lord Voldemort to try and kill you fifteen years ago, for you to be given certain information."

Harry noticed the vast interest the voice suddenly gave. "You said, at the end of last term, you were going to tell me everything," said Harry. It was hard to keep a note of accusation from his voice. "Sir," he added.

"And so I did," said Dumbledore placidly. "I told you everything I know. From this point forth, we shall be leaving the firm foundation of fact and journeying together through the murky marshes of memory into thickets of wildest guesswork. You will be with me while we go down the paths of guessing."

Harry thought Dumbledore had lost his mind completely, yet showed much more wisdom. Dumbledore liked to admit when he was wrong, but loved it even more when he was right. "Sir, is this going to help me with the prophecy and survive?"

"Of course it will." Dumbledore got up from his seat and walked over to the cabinet beside the door, pulling out the familiar stone basin. "Now, you and I are going into the pensieve to go witness the memory of Bob Ogden."

"And who was he?"

"He was employed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He died some time ago, but not before I was able to get the recollections from him. If you will stand here, Harry."

Harry stood up and walked over next to Dumbledore, watching him try to pull out the stopper on the small crystal bottle. Finally, Dumbledore removed it with his wand, and poured the silvery substance into the pensieve, the memory mixing with the others, lights flashing. Softly, the mixture appeared liquid, but rose into gas.

Dumbledore nodded to Harry for him to go first, the voice telling Harry to go, quickly. Harry plunged into the basin, falling through the swirling darkness and landing, blinking in the sudden sunlight. The voice pressed him to look around, close to coming out and taking control over Harry. _No, stay down._

_I will. If I come out, Dumbledore would get suspicious. We don't want to have that._

_Why are you so excited though?_

_Think about it afterwards. There's Og-um...someone over there. _

Harry looked around the countryside, letting his attention become diverted. There indeed was a man, dressed very crazily. _That must be Ogden. _He and Dumbledore followed the man, finally heading down a path Harry barely noticed at first, the plants overgrown and taking control of the surroundings. A man dropped down in front of Ogden as the wizard came close to a house that was blended in with the wild surroundings.

Ogden stumbled back, the gross, repulsive man that dropped down smiling. _"You're not welcome,"_ the man said to Ogden.

Ogden tried to say something, but the man cut him off, repeating "_You're not welcome." _

"Er—I'm sorry—I don't understand you," said Ogden nervously.

Harry shook his head at Ogden's stupidity; the horrid...man...was being very clear. Especially with a wand in one hand, a short and rather bloody knife in the other. "You understand him, I'm sure, Harry?" said Dumbledore.

"Yes, of course," said Harry, slightly nonplussed. "Why can't Ogden—" But as his eyes found the dead snake on the door again, he suddenly understood. "He's speaking parseltongue?"

"Very good," said Dumbledore, nodding and smiling.

And so the memory continued Harry learning of the man's father, Mr. Gaunt, and of Morfin's attacks on the villagers. And of Merope, a nervous girl who seemed to be clumsy, but obviously afraid of her father. Ogden continued to try to tell Mr. Gaunt of Morfin's consequences, but Gaunt wouldn't have any of it. After Gaunt went shouting about their family of purebloods, Morfin mentioned Merope's fantasies with a muggle which sent Gaunt wild. He screamed at Merope, the rage in parseltongue which Harry understood all of.

Ogden release Gaunt from Merope then ran out, Dumbledore signaling that they should follow. Ogden ran into a horse and ran off down the street, Dumbledore and Harry leaving the memory.

Dumbledore explained the rest of the memory, and what happened to Marvolo and Morfin, Harry starting to pay attention. "Marvolo?"

"That's right," said Dumbledore, smiling in approval. "I am glad to see you're keeping up."

"That old man was—"

"Voldemort's grandfather, yes," said Dumbledore. Harry noticed how to voice had become so silent and still that Harry became unsure of whether it was there or not. But...after seeing that memory, Harry didn't know what to do. Dumbledore didn't need to know about the voice, but the voice didn't need to know about the memory.

Dumbledore continued more about the memory and things he thought he was figuring out, but Harry was focusing on how to block the voice from hearing everything.

_Give it up, you're not strong enough. And I already know all of this._

_What?!_

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked, peering at him peculiarly.

"What? Oh, sorry, I think my thoughts are becoming overwhelmed. But would she use an Imperius curse? Or a love potion?"

Harry tried to pay attention to Dumbledore, but the voice was making its presence more known to Harry, making it soon hard to focus. Harry asked questions when he knew he had to, and figure out the information when he was put on the spot.

When Dumbledore dismissed Harry, the boy pointed out the ring as he was leaving, and felt the voice flare up, threatening to take control. "You were wearing it when we visited professor Slughorn that night."

"So I was."

"But isn't it..." It was becoming hard to think with the voice pressing down on him, but he managed to slide it out. "Sir, isn't it the same ring Marvolo Gaunt showed Ogden?"

Dumbledore bowed his head. "The very same."

"But how come—? Have you always had it?"

_The bastard stole it from me! My possession! And he ruined it! _the voice screamed to Harry. _At least he hurt himself, the clumsy prick. _

"No, I acquired it very recently," said Dumbledore. "A few days before I came to fetch you from your aunt and uncle's, in fact."

"That would be around the time you injured your hand, then, sir?"

"Around that time, yes, Harry."

The voice took control of Harry, or more like grabbed at the control, seizing it. The voice gave a quick bow of the head and said, "Night sir."

Once though he was out of the office and down the stairs, the voice found the first hard thing he could and punched it as many times as he could. The hand soon became a bloody mess, the tangled, detached fingers looking like some freak incident had turned his hand into something from a horror book.

"Oh, fuck," the voice said, taking out Harry's wand and poking it in spots, the bones fixing themselves. _You're lucky I'm able to manipulate your magic for a short amount of time. It would have been hard to explain that to your school nurse._

_Still, what the bloody hell was that for? Why are you so angry? And what did you mean by you already know of that memory?_

_That bastard took my ring and broke it! Now it's useless, and I'm going to kill him! And the memory...I learned of it a long time ago. It's nothing you should worry about. _

_But I am. I want my emotions back. I hate having it feel like I'm experiencing them when I'm not! I fell like a shell._

_You want your emotions to tie you down to everyone? You'll last longer outside of this place without them. No one will pick on the boy who looks like he can kill someone. It's all in the eyes. If there's something in your eyes, it's easier to bring you down. _

_So? I'll learn how to get over it. Isn't that another way to grow stronger? Have life kick you down so you can learn how to get back up?_

_For the most part, but you also have to wait for Malfoy's revenge. If you forget about that, and he gets you, then it doesn't really matter if you have emotions or not. He's not as scared as he is pissed at you, which is not a good thing._

_I don't care what he does, I really don't._

_And that would the unemotional Harry talking. If you had all of your emotions back, you'd be messed up and wouldn't be able to take a hold of everything around you. It's better if you just drop it._

_I don't like the way you're talking to me. It's my body, and my emotions. Give them back to me right fucking now. _

_If you don't shut the hell up then I'm going to make you regret ever being born. I'm stronger and I'm in control. I'm being nice to you, and you better damn appreciate it. _

Harry was put back in control when they reached the tower, his hand fixed but tight. _How'd you fix it after mangling it?_

_Patience, and little things to learn before the bigger problems. It's a spell I picked up a couple of years out of school. _

Harry shrugged mentally, then opened the tower door, the fat lady looking down at him interestingly, almost accusingly. He entered, then told Ron and Hermione about everything he had learned.

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hehehehehehe...guess what...???? I'M IN THE DOUBLE DIGITS!!!!!!!!!!!! WOOT!!!!!!!! lol, well, i knew about that since this story is in my notebook, teehee, but i'm just happy i made it this far on fanfic. And I thank all of you lovely people who read my story!!! makes me very, very happy. I hope this chapter wasn't to bad. It isn't really one of my favorites, cus there was to much description from the book, and i didn't want to include it all...and yeah. NEXT CHAPTER IS MALFOY'S REVENGE!!!!!!!!! 

lol, i have to use some sort of bribe to get you guys to come back...lol. and i think it's one of my longest chapters too...hehe, i had a lot of fun writing it. and one of my favorites. that, and the chapter that i currently am writing up. hehehehehe. Well, here you go, thank you to all of you lovely reviewers, and...i'm gonna ask...can i have more people review? Please? you'll make me feel special and loved...hehe. well. UNTIL NEXT TIME!!!!


	11. A Fall, A Foul Meeting, A Finding

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A week passed, Harry "excited" as he held Gryffindor tryouts. He knew he should be jumping up and down, talking nonstop, but he wasn't. He was calm, his hands twitching to ride on the broom again, to feel the smooth wood of the Firebolt underneath him. He saw how long the tryout list was, and thought it was going to take most of the day.

After he went onto the pitch, he noticed there were a lot of younger years that didn't know how to ride brooms, and students that weren't even from the Gryffindor house. When he had everything sorted out and ready to go as best as he could do, he grabbed onto his broom, a shiver running through him.

He got onto his broom and flew up, high, higher than he knew he needed to, higher than he knew he should have gone. His body seemed as light as the air around him, feeling like he could melt into the clouds and be happy for the rest of his life. He closed his eyes, relaxing, not feeling the broom slide out from under him, the fall begin, his robes flapping around him, or the cry of voices.

The feel of the wind released all of his thoughts, causing him to forget where he was. He spread his arms out, and let the wind take him to wherever it needed. He was at bliss, finally.

The wind though slowed him down though, and he felt something grab a hold of him around his arms, chest, and legs. Dazed, he opened his eyes, seeing Ginny, Katie, and Ron. For a split second he noticed Ginny didn't have any fear in her eyes, but the thought wilted away, replaced with sudden tiredness, and the wanting to slip back into the sweet rapture he had been experiencing. He felt his eyes close and he forced them to remain open, to remain awake. Everyone was looking at him, Harry looking for his broom, a second year, he thought, bringing it to him. "Mmmmthanks," he mumbled, avoiding everyone's eyes.

"What happened?" Ron asked, Ginny remaining silent and looking like she realized what she just did.

"I'm not sure. Just sort of fell." He was still dizzy, and was pulled to go back to the dorms and sleep. "Thanks for catching me though," he mumbled, before shaking his head and yelling, "Okay, chaser tryouts!"

He watched everyone, trying to keep focus on those who were trying out instead of the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest. In the end, he chose Ginny, who looked fearful for a couple of seconds, Katie, and another girl, Demelza Robins. He next chose beaters, and ended up getting hit in the back on accident, but it brought his attention back to what was going on. For the two, he chose Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote. The last trial he did was the Keepers, and he knew he could pay attention for these.

When he was watching the keeper tryouts, he felt the voice's presence, which reminded him it was there. _I can feel how much you love the game. You're lucky to be so talented at riding a broom. I was never any good. I preferred to stay indoors with both feet planted on the ground. If I did have any talent though, I would have been keeper. I was always fond of the position. _

_I don't care what position I play, as long as I'm in the game. Even though, yes, seeker is my favorite. _

When he was watching the final round, he noticed something about Cormac McLaggen, especially with how full of himself he seemed to be, and whatever it was, Harry didn't like it. When he chose Ron, he knew he had made a good choice. Afterwards though, McLaggen came up to him, Harry not liking how Cormac got into his face acting like a big tough guy, even though he _was_ a lot bigger and stronger than Harry. "Yes Cormac?"

"You're going to regret you're choice, Potter. Why would you choose a little scrawny punk like him? Is he your fuck buddy?"

Harry rolled his eyes, more pretending to act annoyed than anything else. "Why does everyone think that? Well, with his skill level and brains he definitely beats you, but you have the strength. On this team, we need skill, brains, talent, and an understanding. You qualify for none of that. I'm the king, you're the pawn. You do what I say. Funny thing about being captain, you know."

McLaggen looked livid. His fists were clenched together, and his face was turning a bright red. Harry thought McLaggen was going to hit him, and he didn't care. Harry just stared at the other boy, daring him. McLaggen looked around to Ron and Hermione, and turned around, storming off towards the castle. "Let's go see Hagrid," Hermione suggested, trying to direct Harry's mind. "We haven't seen him for awhile."

Still gazing at the retreating distance, he said, "I don't know Hermione. I think it's better if we stay away."

"What?! Harry! Why would you say such a thing?"

Harry looked at Hermione, realizing what he just said. "I'm not sure, actually. It just came out."

_It's because the giant _would_ be able to tell the difference, and question you, more so than Dumbledore would. You've been with the giant longer than Dumbledore, and he's softer than your friends. When it comes to reading you, in your entire appearance, he will notice the difference._

_How do you fricken know all of this?_

_Your memories of him. I'm not lying. Otherwise, I've only heard of him, since he's a half giant on Dumbledore's side. _

They reached the edge of Hagrid's yard, and spotted Buckbeak. Harry walked up to him, bowed, and tried not to blink. The voice stared at it, saying _I've never ridden on one of these. They're feathers though are astounding when it comes to making things._

_It's an adventure, that's for sure. _It took longer than normal for Buckbeak to bow, but when he did, Harry was still unsure of if he should pet him. Looking at the Hippogriff, Hermione and Ron went to pet him, soon Hagrid coming out and surprising the three. Harry watched Hermione try to cajole Hagrid to open up, Harry rolling his eyes and walking up to the door. "Hagrid, open up!" No response. "I'm gonna skip the coaxing and go straight to the action. If you don't get out here I'm going to blast the door open!"

Hermione rambled something at Harry, but the voice wanted to see him cause damage. As he opened his mouth though, the door opened as well. "You tryin' to threaten me Potter? Or am I to much of a friend? Well, I'm a teacher!"

"I'm sorry, _sir. _I figured one way or another would get you out." Harry lowered his wand, but didn't put it away.

Hagrid looked at him, a little confused. "Since when have yeh called me 'sir'?"

"Since when have you called me 'Potter'?"

Hagrid rolled his eyes, letting the three in, Fang instintly trying to get his head petted. Hermione sweet-talked Hagrid, the mood of the room brightening considerably afterwards. When they found out how Aragog was dying, the voice paid rapt attention, close to controlling Harry. _Stop that. If you push any harder, you'll be in control and make it seem like I've never seen the giant spider._

_Oh, sorry. When was this encounter?_

_In my second year. And I never want to go again._

_Will they attack anyone who goes in? _

_Yeah, and they don't like it if you use magic. I'm only alive because Ron's dad had a flying car that saved us. And the fact that Aragog was a little interested about what we had to say. That place though, even without emotions, is one of the scariest places ever. _

_Interesting..._

"Harry, ya all right?" Hagrid asked, Harry and the voice wincing inside. "Ya seem kinda, I don' know, distracted."

"I'm all right. No worries. I guess I'm still thinking of the Quidditch tryouts. Don't mind me." Harry tried to put on an innocent face, but it was harder when he had Ron and Hermione staring at him as well. Hagrid looked at him a moment longer, seeming to debate whether or not the answer was acceptable. When he shrugged, Harry mentally let out a breath.

When they left to head back to the school, Harry was invited to a party thrown by Slughorn, which he had to turn down since he had a detention with Snape. When he went, the usual office was dark and depressing. The voice made him look around, very interested. Snape came out of the back rooms, a smirk pulling the corners of his mouth up. "Ah, Potter. There's a barrel back there ready for you. Enjoy."

Harry felt the old feeling of hatred rise up, but it disappeared when he realized what it was. He went into the back, a barrel full of mutilated, gross, long slimy things. The voice said _eww, _to a degree, Harry agreeing. He figured out the rotten flobberworms were flat and a light brown/greenish color, while the live ones twitched when you touched them. He was done with his job in a half an hour, the voice taking control and cleaning his hands easily. As he was leaving, the voice told him how to transform the drink inside Snape's goblet into a flobberworm, Harry not arguing.

Harry left the room as fast as he could, smirking. _I'm going to be dead tomorrow, but it doesn't matter. It was worth it. _

The voice nodded, amused for once. As Harry was passing the great hall to head towards the Gryffindor tower, someone came out of the shadows to greet him. It was Malfoy, with Crabbe and Goyle following. "Grab him," the blonde simply said, the two goons rushing over and grabbing the Gryffindor. Before Harry could grab his wand, the two tackled him as Malfoy walked over, his eyes full of wrath. "I told you I was going to make you pay. And I figured out how."

Malfoy held his wand up to Harry's temple, a light shooting out and blasting Harry in the head, forcing him into unconsciousness.

When Harry woke next, his vision was dark. He noted the cold stone floor underneath him, the cool air shifting across his skin. From what he could tell, he was stark naked, probably something Malfoy had enjoyed doing. His hands were bound behind him, his weight crushing them painfully. His legs were tied at the ankle, course rope holding them together tightly. He shifted his weight, the slight movement registering he was awake, earning him a full-blown kick into his left ribs. He could hear and feel them grind together, threatening to break.

"Oh good, you're awake. And, I like you with the blindfold on. Makes this experience more memorable, since you'll only be able to feel and figure out where the pain is coming from," Malfoy said to him, his voice close to entertainment and cooing.

"Now, the name of this game is Allegiance. The point is to see if you are a stuck up Gryffindor and can refuse the Dark Lord, or if you're anything less and is able to give up everything about yourself to join and live in peace and prosperity."

"I can already tell you no."

Another kick to his ribs, a little harder this time, the ribs grinding together as he thought he could feel one crack, beginning to break. "Don't interrupt me. If you say no, then you'll be punished. If you say yes, then you'll be healed and promised many dreams that will come true. The more you say no, the more pain you'll be in. I'll ask questions, you give me an answer. Easy?"

"Sure, but I still say no."

A kick to his right ribs this time, two cracking. "Okay, easy pain. Question One: Would you turn to the Dark Lord for anything?"

"What is this? A fucking survey?"

A slap to his face. "Answer the question."

"No."

He received another slap, a little harder than the last one. "Question Two: Have you ever thought about going to him for anything?"

"Nope." The voice gave a chuckle, alerting Harry of its presence.

He was slapped though, his cheeks beginning to burn. _Help me out!_

_No._

_What?! And why not?_

_I'm rather enjoying this. I wonder who gave him these lovely questions._

"Question Three: Are you ever considering in the future asking the Dark Lord anything?"

"Hell. No."

Another slap, and on and on the torment went. The slaps turned to punches, the punches moving lower, injuring more. The punches turned to kicks, a majority of his bones cracking while a lot were also broken. From there, the kicks turned to cuts, at first shallow but running deeper. His voice was nearly gone, and the blindfold was coming off from his constant head moving. He could feel the blood pumping out of his wounds, the slow drips falling off of him.

Harry couldn't cry though. He didn't have the emotion to cry. It only pissed off Malfoy more, who started asking trick questions, Harry having to answer no to all. "Do you think there's any Death Eaters at the school?"

_Dammit to hell! _"No," he ground out.

"Tsk, tsk Potter. Should have said yes to that one to save you from the pain. Bring out the last resort. Sprinkle it on, but not a lot."

"I don't know if your friends though count as Death Eaters though, since you're too young to do anything," Harry said, his voice raspy. "Or does that still count? Bet Voldie set you up, huh? Feel like Jesus in his presence? Or someone who's condemned to hell?"

_I wish I did think of this, _the voice slipped out, then freezing still.

_You...what? _Harry felt his mind spin, the episodes at the Weasley's house unfolding. He saw each strip of the two weeks, of how much Voldemort had changed him. He screamed, his voice echoing off the stone walls at least three times. "_NO! Dammit, get out of my head!"_ he yelled, banging his head against the concrete as hard as he could. The moment after the meeting came in front of his eyes, the obviousness of the situation now blinding him. _You diverted my attention last week! What did you use? My magic? There is no way I'm that much of a moron! I can't believe I fell for everything you've been telling me!_

_It's the lovely thing of the young, depressive hearts of teenagers. You're all the same. You'll fall for anything, as long as it strays away from the harsh being of reality._

The battle of thoughts was interrupted as someone yelled, "Dump it all, now!"

Harry felt something pour over his body, a coldness settling, then warming up with pain. He slowly yelled louder, shaking off the solid that was on him. It only stuck to his congealing blood, becoming entrapped within. Harry's voice ricocheted off the walls, causing him to believe he would turn deaf if this noise continued much longer.

The pain only latched onto him, becoming one with his body as Voldemort had become one with his mind. His body started convulsing on its own, Harry unable to decide which was worse: Voldemort or the pain. _You sick fuck, get the hell out of my head! _He could feel his body starting to shut down on him, Malfoy laughing. He could also feel his body numbing, going into spasms. He couldn't control it, and Malfoy knew it.

_No! I explained this before. I'm in your mind, and you can't get me out. I. Am. Stuck. And you're just going to have to deal with it. I rather like this torturing method Draco has. I'm going to have to watch him._

Harry screamed once more, the last of his voice coming with it. He hit his head harder on the floor, feeling the crack slowly become worse, his head soon creating pools of blood, the splashes sending little flecks everywhere.

He could dimly hear the shuffling of feet, and Crabbe asking, "What's he doing? Is he trying to kill himself?"

"I don't know. Shit, we better get the hell out of here before we're caught." Malfoy sounded scared.

He could hear the slapping of feet against the cold concrete, the sounds soon fading and leaving the boy only God knew where. Harry soon stopped hitting his head when Voldemort took control. _I'm going to make you pay for that, and it's not going to be nice. I don't even think I can move your body; it's that badly injured._

Harry fought against Voldemort's control over the body, succeeding horribly. _You were able to move me at my relative's house._

_Well, you didn't have any bones that were broken. If you're lucky, I can at least get you the rest of the blindfold off to look around, but moving is going to be damn near impossible. And through you, I can't really control magic at this school, but I know how I can. But, it's not going to be for a while, and we're screwed unless someone comes down and finds us. _

_Good luck with that. _

Harry knew he was going to die, and he couldn't believe this was how. It was an easy win for Voldemort, Harry dully realized. But, with the Dark Lord in his head, it was hard to win. He didn't know what to do, or how to tell anyone without Voldemort coming out and stopping him.

_That's right, think about it. Realize how stuck you are. You'll only win if you're on my side. You'll only win when you believe what I believe._

_And what would that be? _Harry spat.

_Wizards are the dominant figure, and we need to let those petty muggles know that through war. When they lose, we can then capture them and keep them as slaves. _Images flashed through Harry's mind; houses burning, dead bodies everywhere with glassy eyes open wide, showing death quite obviously although no open marks were upon them. Wizards patrolled the streets, Voldemort in the lead, a smile of triumph and pleasure pasting his pale features. Harry was next to him, a blue collar around his neck with different colored stones on it, shining oddly in the dark light. On the collar was attached a leash, leading towards Voldemort's wrist. It was royal blue and made of leather. Harry saw his image bound at the wrists, many scratch marks upon his face, arms, and neck. They had healed over, but it was a thin layer. He was wearing dirty white robes, marking him as a prisoner with no past or future. He noticed how his scar has many other narrow scratches around it, marring the once famous image. His hair was messier than normal, with blood and dirt mixed in. His eyes were what scared Harry the most. They were gone; not looking like he was under the Imperius—those looks were more of a glazed over, spacey kind of empty. His eyes were dead, like a Dementor had sucked his soul out and he was still obeying Voldemort's orders.

_This is what will come to pass, Potter, and you will be my servant, whether or not you cooperate. The process is already beginning. It's only a matter of time, my pet._

"_NOOOO!!!" _Harry screamed, his voice regenerating, the sound echoing out of Voldemort's control and bouncing off the halls, his magic flowing with it to carry it father, only fading as it reached the ears of a professor.

_You little bastard! _Voldemort screamed in fury. _How did you control your magic with me in control?_

Harry didn't answer. Simply because he didn't know how.

_It's time for you to sleep for a long time. I'll take care of everything. _

Harry screamed once more, his voice echoing in his mind but not outside his body. Voldemort had taken a hold of his physical being in a better grip. A light flashed in Harry's eyes, his mental body collapsing into a heap as he was knocked unconscious. Seconds later, a person stopped at the sight at the sight of Harry's physical body, the ragged breathing from running turning to rough breaths of surprise. "What the hell happened here?" he whispered aloud, afraid of moving the boy without help.

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hehehehehehe well, here it is, and i hope everyone had a fun fourth of july, whether you're in america or not. i was going to post this yesterday, but i kinda forgot and when i remembered i didn't have my flashdrive with me...T-T oh well, i'm posting this now, and i do hope y'all love this and stuff...i know i am. and thanks once more to my reviewers...it motivates me to continue on, knowing that my story is loved by people other than me. Well, hopefully this helps explain the large gap i left in the last chapter, with after dumbledore's meeting...idk. it kinda at least patches it up...sorta. well. yeah. i think this is the longest chapter so far, and i think i have a few more coming up...hehe, i like writing long chapters. sorta. i'm just not used to it... 

OKAY!!! i'm shutting up now...I love those of you who read this story!!!!!!!!!!!! Thanks!!


	12. The Truth Hurts

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Harry knew he was dreaming right away. It was obvious as the sun rises in the east and the world spins on an axis. A grey mist circled his feet, so thick he couldn't see past his ankles. Around him was pitch black, only he could still manage to see. He didn't know how, but he could see where he was going if he walked. Only, there was nothing around.

Then...His stomach fluttered and he felt light, his hair whipped around... He was falling. He didn't feel attached to anything and he didn't like the feeling. The next he knew he was on solid...ground, he guessed, and there was nothing around him except the darkness and mist. He felt a pull, a need to walk and not figure out what the hell was going on. There would be time for that later.

He walked, the mist never changing, not that he could feel it or anything. He could just tell it was there. Time seemed to pass, but he couldn't tell. It was a guess. Everything in this place was a guess. Questions started popping into his head, scrambling his sense of where he needed to go. _Where am I? What am I walking on? What time is it? Where am I going? What is the purpose of the mist; what is it supposed to symbolize?_

_Question later..._A voice whispered to him, pulling the thoughts out of his head. He didn't know what was happening and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He just continued on to where his...feeling...was taking him, soon spotting something in the distance. He took longer strides, the shape soon forming.

Harry first saw the outline of a cage, then a person in it. He rushed, close to jogging over, especially when he recognized the shape of the figure. The only questions on his mind now were _How? _and _What the hell is going on? _He walked to the main door of the cage, eyeing the unconscious figure cautiously, even though he didn't think anything would happen. On the front of the cage was a giant silver padlock, magic entwined around it. Harry found his wand in one of his pockets, surprised, then looked back at the cage. He prodded the lock, figuring out whether or not he could unlock it.

When nothing worked, Harry went and sat down, looking at the figure once more. It was him, obviously, but what was an image of him doing here in the middle of...wherever? And, for even bigger kicks, the Harry-image was wearing the clothes from when he had stayed at the Dursley's. Maybe...

Harry uncrossed his legs and stood up, removing his wand from a pocket in his sleeve this time. He poked the magic around the lock once more, an odd, not to familiar feeling filling him. The magic disappeared, and the lock opened with a simple _"Alohamora." _Harry opened the door, heading towards his...self. The other figure twitched, then latched onto Harry's arm, it's eyes wide and glazed over.

"Accept everything," the image said in a raspy voice, creeping Harry out. The image faded, Harry backing out of the cage. He shivered, then shut the door and put the padlock back on before looking around. Worried, he thought, _Oh crap, how do I get out of here?_

_Wait...I can feel! I have my emotions back! This is where Voldemort locked them up?_

He didn't get much further, since a double-decker bus of emotions just crashed into him. He fought to get out alive, to be able to think clearly.

Among the avalanche that he was trying to fight, were the words _accept everything. _It rolled through his mind a couple of times before he comprehended it. When he did, and thought the words, he realized what it meant. Only, he didn't want to deal with it...but it was too late. The pain swept through him, the avalanche growing stronger, soaking through to his soul and mind. When he did accept everything, the pain began to dim. He yelled, falling to the ground, twisting around through the mist like a mutated snake. When the feeling finally passed, he felt numb, light, his head and soul hurting greatly.

Harry continued to lie in the mist, his breath fast and shallow, his voice still slightly echoing around him. He wanted to wake up, get out of this dream, but he didn't know how. Voldemort was in control, and he had just gotten his emotions back. _But this is _my_ body. It's for my use, not his!_

Harry opened his eyes, saw the mist around him, then shut his eyes once more, concentrating hard. He pictured what he thought was the core part of his mind, and the movement of his body, the feeling of the world around him. When he next tried to open his eyes, he found it hard to do, and he felt stabs of pain everywhere, soon it becoming a big blast.

He felt the dull ache of many bones, Harry guessing the ones that were broken and had been re-grown. There was always a stinging impression through the bone for at least a day, if not longer. He could feel the bruises from where he was slapped, punched, and kicked, those areas not feeling any better than his repaired bones.

Deciding he wanted to know where he was, Harry opened his eyes, instantly knowing he was in the hospital wing with one glance at the light blue curtains that surrounded him. He shifted, a sharp gasp escaping him. He heard a shuffle of feet, the curtain shortly pulled open, revealing the medi-witch.

"Oh, it's good to see you awake!"

He smiled, and then without much thought asked, "Do you know if Ron or Hermione are here? I need to tell them something before everything changes."

Madam Pomfrey looked at him, an expression on her face that was hard to place. It was in the middle of worry, annoyance, curiosity, and possible anger. "No, they aren't here, but they might stop in later today."

Harry's stomach dropped. "You mean they haven't been here at all?"

"They've been here, but only this morning right before classes. They seemed worried after you didn't come back to the tower last night. I'll have to say, you were so badly injured, I'm surprised you're awake so soon. You should be asleep for another twelve hours at least. Your body was badly abused and it needs time to heal. Mr. Potter, would you tell me how all of this happened?"

"No, it was something I had coming to me for a while, but it went a little overboard."

Madam Pomfrey slowly nodded, getting the point rather quickly that he wasn't going to tell her. He needed to see Ron and Hermione though, before Voldemort came back out and swept him back into the nightmare.

"Madam Pomfrey, can you please find a way to have Ron and Hermione up here soon? I need to tell them something before I lose their friendship. Either this, or me going to find them."

The nurse looked at him, finally saying, "I'll go find them. You move though, you're going to regret that you woke up and started demanding things of me."

Harry nodded, smiling and liking this new personality that had just taken a hold of the nurse. "Thank you. You have no idea how important this is to me."

As she left, Harry laid back down, staring at the ceiling. He searched his mind for the presence of Voldemort, but couldn't find anything. He didn't understand, but he also didn't want to think about it until after he talked to Ron and Hermione. Harry waited as patiently as he could, edged with worry, his body tense. As much as he didn't want to think about it, he couldn't help wonder if the freeing of his emotions had temporarily driven Voldemort away. He hoped so. He liked having his emotions, even though he could tell a difference between the two "sides" or minds, even. Sadly, though, he could tell he was better off with no emotions. Even though it was hard to not be an asshole to his friends, his thoughts had been clearer and decisions were easier to make.

With that conformation, he could feel Voldemort stir. _No, not yet. Please, wait another minute, as least. Oh, nonononono..._

_Did you really think you could get away from me that easily?_ Voldemort asked, sounding a little groggy.

Harry figured the blast of emotions had stunned him, but now he was waking up and not in the best of moods.

_No, but it was worth a shot. Now I know of a way that will temporarily shut you up. I just need to figure out how to use it more often. _

Harry looked over when he heard the doors open, Madam Pomfrey entering with two confused Gryffindors behind her. They looked at him when she gestured to his bed, before they slowly came over. Harry was tempted to yell out "Help! Voldemort is sharing my mind!" But he didn't want Madam Pomfrey to hear, and for him to sound insane. He didn't need Ron and Hermione running off either.

They finally reached him, seeing how hurt he really was. Before either of them could open their mouths, Harry held up a hand and quickly, while still able to be understood, said, "There's something I have to tell you before I lose control. Voldemort is in—"

He gasped, Voldemort's anger filling him. He cringed, his face contorted in pain. The only thing that stopped the Dark Lord from possessing him completely was Harry's love for his friends and how happy he was that they were still standing next to him. "Voldemort's—in—" he ground out, now holding his head, since the words couldn't form. "—my—"

His breath was coming short, blackness and pain rolling through his mind. He pounded his head, gesturing as well as try to calm the pain down. His breath froze as he heard himself say, "You will not tell them! I command you! I can crush you and control your life if you say anything!"

Harry didn't know if Voldemort knew he said that aloud, instead of just in his thoughts. "Head! My head!" Harry finally got out, taking his moment of response to finish the rest of his statement. "And this is my life, not yours!"

"Harry!" Ron and Hermione said, trying to get the boy to relax and to pull his fingers out of the now bleeding scalp from his nails.

"Ron! I'm sorry about Ginny! It wasn't me! I'm sorry for being mean to you. Hermione, I'm sorry for anything I said hurtfully to you. It wasn't on purpose!"

They paused for a moment, Harry's vision turning black. He took his last chance to say, "I'm going to be a cold-heartless bastard soon, and I'm sorry! Not my choice this time..."

His mind slipped and his body collapsed on the bed, muscles now loose, Hermione and Ron stunned. He felt his mind pulled back and away, the Dark Lord in front of him, the man's anger sweeping into the air, pressing around Harry. Harry was afraid, but pushed that down, knowing he had to stand up to the mass murderer.

"You—little—traitor. You have no idea how bad I'm going to beat your mind. In the end, nothing of you will remain. You'll be lucky if I even let a part of you live. You messed everything up, and I told you I'd make you pay." Voldemort's voice had been shaking in the beginning with anger, but now it was smooth, fury flowing along with the words.

Voldemort stuck his arm out towards Harry, streaks of light shooting out of his fingers and wrapping around Harry. When the ropes seemed to settle, Harry felt something press against his skin, the pressure soon becoming uncomfortable. He struggled, the feeling only becoming worse and eventually more painful. "The more you struggle, the sooner the spikes will dig into you. They go far with ease, so if I were you, I'd stop moving. Or, continue on for my enjoyment. Either works."

Harry stopped moving, little rivulets of blood flowing and staining copper red. Voldemort walked over to him, smiling. "Better for you in this case. What Malfoy did to you was very glorious and well thought out, until the part where Snape found you, of course."

"Wait—" Harry choked out, the rope slowly growing tighter around his throat. "Snape found me?"

"Yes, even though I'm not quite sure what he was doing in that part of the dungeons. He heard your screams though, and didn't know what to do when he found you. He was surprised and revolted, if you want to say, and I think he felt sorry once he realized who it was. But, of course, the sorrow is hidden underneath everything quite well. He took you up to the Hospital Wing, after he found your clothes, and didn't explain anything to the nurse. I'm surprised she didn't ask you a lot of questions when you woke. Not a very good matron if you ask me, but you also probably threw her off when you asked for your friends right away."

Harry glared at him, now feeling the pyramid-shape of the spikes enter him. He was tied neck to ankle, with about an inch of space in between each line of rope. Blood was now coming out, dripping in splatters on the ground. Voldemort sighed before continuing, looking a little bored. "But what am I supposed to do with you? I want it to last. While I decide on something, _Cruciatus."_

Harry yelled, his figure folding behind him into an arch, white pain licking his limbs, leaving fire behind. His voice carried on around them, the spikes eagerly digging further in at his movements. He couldn't stop moving though. It was like stopping the sun from rising in the morning. It just didn't happen.

When Voldemort seemed to make up his mind, he stopped the curse on Harry, who almost wept with relief. _Only, that would be what he wants,_ so Harry had enough control to stop himself. "See, the thing that isn't fun with you is that you're not really afraid of anything. If you were, then it'd be easier. But I guess I'm going to have to start with _Trockenheit."_

Harry breathed in, then felt himself begin to sweat. Only, the water was heading towards Voldemort's hands. Harry felt his breathing begin to increase, his blood pumping faster. Soon a ball of water was floating above Voldemort's hands, more joining ever second. Soon it hurt to hold his eyes open, and every breath was like taking a piece of bark from a tree and rubbing it against the drying out muscles. He could feel the spikes now digging into his body, eager to get to the other side.

He felt the blood break through the dried muscle and skin, the spikes entering easier. Harry felt like he was shriveling, only to have the water splash back on him, entering his body once more. "_Sauer Unda," _Voldemort said, smirking. Harry screamed as soon as he could, the water flowing through his body, burning him. He could feel the holes appear, taking chunks of his brain with him. It was like being in a fire without being able to put it out or stop it in any way. He felt the blood eat through his body, his skin turning a lobster red, peeling off in large layers. He tried to yell, only getting a throat full of blood. He started choking, his body jerking uncontrollably.

Voldemort sighed in annoyance, once more saying "You're no fun. You seem to be mellower, unlike the other prisoners I had. Each of them died in a most entertaining way, but you by far is the most boring. Time for something else then. While I'm thinking, _Congelo."_

Harry's body stiffened, unable to move. He felt the acid stop eating him, every part of him frozen, as a chill drifted over him. The longer Voldemort thought, the colder and colder Harry became, unable to move to warm himself up.

As Harry's body began to ice over, Voldemort seemed to make up his mind on the spell. "Okay boy, I've decided I don't want to kill you just yet. Suffering always works, and while you're 'healing,' your life will be in my control. In a way, you should be happy you told your friends what happened, because if they didn't know, and I had to punish you for a different reason, no one would trust or like you whatsoever. This way, your friends might be able to forgive you. Emphasis on the might."

Harry truly wanted to die. The pain seemed to rage up again as the spells were all disabled, but the wounds weren't going to heal anytime soon. The pain lingered, tearing his body apart. He wasn't even sure if he would ever fully recover. He knew the acid had torn apart his body, and he wasn't quite sure what had been devoured and what was still in tact. He could barely breathe, and he felt the blood pooling in his throat, mouth, and everywhere else it seemed. He coughed, the blood frothing out of any holes. _How can Voldemort keep me from dying, if I'm basically dying right here?_

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teehee...chapter 12. Longer...XD it works. and yeah...updating sooner than i was planning cus i'm cool like that...so yeah. and the little spell things...they're both in german and latin, but i think i got them translated correctly. Probly not, but hey, it's just a story!!! Who cares? But...hmmm..._Trokenheit--_Water Release, _Sauer Unda--_Acid Water, and _Congelo--_Freeze.  
so yeah, i think that's right, but oh well. it's just a story...so have a good weekend everyone!! Yay for fridays...XD  
and once more i wanna thank my lovely reviewers!!! hehe, love ya!


	13. Looking Through Different Eyes

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Harry lived in the dark abyss. He was in constant pain when conscious, and felt it pressing down when he was out. He could tell though, that his magic was helping heal his body. It didn't take away the pain though, which he guessed was appropriate. As long as he was healing, he didn't care.

When he was conscious, he would get visions, corresponding to what he guessed Voldemort was doing to his life. One vision he knew he would never forget was Voldemort slapping Hermione for intruding on his life. Another vision was Ginny close to screaming when he approached her. She passed out, Voldemort playing the innocent part by saying, "Ginny? Ginny! Wake up! Somebody, get McGonagall!"

That vision swept by, replaced by another. By the looks of it, it was either happening, or it had just happened. He noticed how the more recent visions were clearer, while the older visions from (he guessed) maybe a day or so ago were clouded, harder to see.

He saw that Voldemort was coming back from Hogsmeade, Ron and Hermione talking together softly in front of him, the wind blowing some of the words back. Voldemort whispered a spell, the words becoming clear like tuning a radio. Hermione's words reached his ears first. "I don't know what to do anymore. I know Harry's still in there, but it's been a week."

"I know, and I'm starting to lose hope also. If Harry truly was still in there, wouldn't he have come out already?"

"He would have. I can tell a difference between the two. It's like he has two different minds. The vastness in difference is too great for a split personality, but if it really is You-Know-Who, then what're we going to do?"

"There's nothing we really can do. But, he apologized, so, different meanings can come from that."

"Sorry is sorry, an apology. And he sounded sincere when he said it. Everything else though, was covered with worry. He looked and sounded like the Harry we know. I want him back."

"I do too, Hermione, I do too."

The two seemed finished with their conversation, Voldemort putting his hearing back to normal. Harry, though, could feel the consciousness begin to slowly slip away as the vision dragged on. If he just watched, and didn't really think about what was going on, he might be able to see the whole purpose of the vision.

Voldemort was walking up a hill that led towards Hogwarts when a shriek came from in front of him. A girl—_Katie Bell, _Harry thought almost distantly, Voldemort having idea of her as the cute chaser girl—was floating six feet above the ground, screaming. Ron and Hermione ran to another girl who had been walking with Katie, who was also beginning to scream. Ron, Hermione, and the other girl grabbed Katie, who fell.

When Katie was out onto the ground, she started thrashing around, Voldemort smiling when he saw the lost and horrified expression on her face. _Ah, the Abyssus Everto curse, _he thought amusingly. _I wonder if there are people around still who can cure this. Maybe in Southeast Asia, but not a lot._

He walked up to Ron and Hermione saying, "I'll go find some help."

The two looked at him, confused and distrusting, the other girl thankful. Voldemort jogged up the path, actually looking for someone, _but only to see their reaction, _Harry thought with spite, the vision blackening out for a second. Harry knew he didn't have enough of the concentration needed to watch it, but he pressed on anyway. He knew Katie wasn't going to be 'just alright,' but he had to know what happened.

When the vision continued, he saw that Voldemort had found Hagrid, and he was starting to show the giant where everything had happened when the two made it down. Katie had appeared to calm down, only she had started muttering things in a different language. _"Matris de Deus, Abbas de Jesuiten, un novus servo est hic pro Lucifer de barathrum. Fassen totus anima absentis."_

Harry couldn't place it, but it did sound familiar, through Voldemort. Hagrid scooped up Katie and ran back to the castle, the now constant chanting becoming louder. "_Ea hat nullus animus. Fassen totus anima absentis, ea hat nullus animus."_

Voldemort watched the two go, Hermione bending over to the now sobbing girl. "Leanne, isn't it?"

The girl nodded, wiping her tears away. "Katie, Katie, I don't understand. What happened?" The girl mumbled.

"What _did_ happen?" Ron asked, also getting down.

Leanne stifled a sob, barely, but more tears and a sniff from a runny nose said as much. "I don't know. She had a box with her when she returned from the bathroom, from when we were in Hogsmead, and I wanted to know what it was. She told me to just forget about it, so, I tried to, but her hands started shaking when we were coming out of the village. I asked her what was wrong, what was in the box, and she got angry at me and told me to forget about it and stop asking silly questions. She was even about to slap me!"

The story seemed to slip from Leanne as she burst into another bout of tears. Hermione gave the girl a hug, Ron starring coolly at Voldemort, distrust in his eyes. It was a little tiny speck, Harry noticed, but the fact that it was there made Harry cringe. Leanne though, seemed to want to finish the story she started, which surprised the three.

"But...but, I tried to grab the package from her. It, it ripped and she touched it, and she sorta had a smile, her face all dreamy like. It changed to fear and torture though, really quick, and then she screamed..."

Hermione saw the package nearby, as well as Voldemort. He walked over, crouched down as someone yelled "Get away from that!"

Voldemort looked up, anger quickly disappearing off of his face. He had gotten a clear look at the item as well as Harry. Harry noticed it was the necklace he had seen at Borgin and Burkes before. Only a corner of it was showing, but it was that unusual that he could spot it anywhere. The corner that was showing was the top left, the jaded beads with black specks shining even though it was a dreary day. The beads curved down, the top of the pendant barely showing. All he could see was the light brown edging.

The vision left Harry, who sagged with exhaustion. That by far was the longest vision he had seen, but it also meant that he was healing and he could handle being awake longer. He needed his sleep though, to continue the healing. Apparently he had been here a week, and he had several more until he was completely healed, or at least strong enough to control his own body.

He faded off, the pain taking control of him, this time worse than he had been getting used to. He could feel the holes in his body that the acid had created. He knew he was never going to heal completely, especially the holes in his mind. The magic though seared through him as well as the pain, never seeming to let up.

He opened his eyes, unaware that he had shut them. He could feel the magic roar through him; he didn't understand. At this rate the magic would either heal or kill him. He was slightly afraid of the latter option. As much as he did want to die, he knew he was the only one who could kill Voldemort. Maybe other's could help, but who?

His strayed thoughts were snapped away as he let out a yell, his voice sounding less than a whisper, but it was more than he had heard in the week. His lungs burned for air, his blood pumping faster and faster though no oxygen was getting into them. He was filling up with the blood, the thickness clotting, the new gel in and around him. He knew he was dying, but, it really wasn't the way he wanted to go. If anything, it was more of the embarrassing way to die. Having your own body suffocate and kill you, with your own blood. How morbid, but humiliating.

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He could breathe. It was a dull realization at first, the soothing thought sending him into the sleep he needed to heal. Dreams plagued him, even though Harry should have been unable to dream. But they came, hitting hard. Some were actual memories, some were nightmares, and some were just dreams. The first one that came was a memory of when Harry was four.

He was outside, enjoying the time he was out of the cupboard. He had gone down to the park, enjoying the quiet. He had swung and slid down the slides and found a ball buried in the sand. He went onto the pavement, bouncing the ball. He didn't see Dudley or hear the soft snicker behind him. Next Harry knew, he was on the ground, the back of his head throbbing. A couple of tears leaked out as he saw his cousin pick up the ball. "Don't be mean, Dudley. The ball's mine. I found it."

Dudley laughed, bouncing the ball. Harry knew he wasn't going to get the toy back. But he wanted a toy of his own. The only one's he had were broken bits Dudley gave him as jokes. "It's mine now. I like it."

Harry stood up, anger now coming across his face as he wiped the tears away. He looked smaller in his clothes, hand-me-downs from Dudley about two years ago. "Dudley, it's mine. I found it. Please?"

The bigger boy looked at him, almost stupidly. "No. It's mine. To bad for you."

Harry could feel the tears about to come out. _If only I was bigger, then I could take him. _Without any notice, Dudley threw the ball at Harry's head, smashing him in the nose. After the age of six, this would be a game of breaking Harry's glasses. At the moment though, it was for amusement and to try to break the younger one's nose, since he didn't need glasses quite yet.

Harry cried out, his nose bleeding but unbroken. It had come close once before, so at the moment he was happy with the blood and stinging. Dudley laughed and went away, leaving Harry by himself. The young boy sat on the ground, tipping his head back to slow the blood flow. He cringed as the blood slowly drained down the back of his throat, but he guessed whatever worked...

Already four years old and he knew how to take care of himself. He knew how to make small amounts of food, and clean most of the house. Height, for the most part, was the problem. He ended up getting hurt a lot, so he knew how to bandage himself.

Once the blood stopped, he laid down on the grass, the sun beginning to set. He wanted to stay out here and not go back to the house. He didn't know anything about nature and how to survive in it though, so his only option was his relative's house. He knew he had to go back soon before anything happened and got him in trouble. He slowly sat up, made sure his nose wouldn't start bleeding, and went back to the cage. _Next year I'll be in school. Then I'll be gone for a longer amount of time!_

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He was drifting, the attack of magic and pain fading away. He didn't know what was real and what wasn't, the visions of reality and memories attacking him at once. One second he was trashing Ron and Hermione, and the next he was running and hiding from Dudley.

Everything meshed together, confusing Harry beyond what should be normal. When everything stopped moving, the dreams started again.

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Hello hello my readers! lol, guess what day it is??? FRIDAY!!!!!!! WOOOHOOO!!!!!!!! And guess what comes out tomorrow??? HARRY POTTER 7!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ok, who else is excited???? hehehehehehehehe i'm so excited to see how the book ends...or works out at all. so many things that should make the book EXTREMLY long, but then again, it doesn't look to be much bigger than the sixth or fifth book...BUT WE SHALL SEE!!!!!!!!!!!! lol. i'm happy. So here's this chapter, to celebrate the seventh book coming out, and yeah, it's pretty much amazing. lol. idk. i'm rambling. cus i can. and i'm tired. lol.

so. for this chapter. I decided that harry doesn't get glasses until he's like six, cus his relatives are to mean to believe he has a hard time seeing, but when they do the eye-test thing at school, that's when he gets glasses. ummm...and...hmmm...i thought there was one other thing...umm...yeah. this is chapter 13. XD woot. and i'm having awesome plans for this story, and i might slowly start pulling away from the canon, but i'm still going to tie in events...just not a whole lot. and the seventh book, i'm planning on following that a little. we'll see how the book turns out and if i agree with it or not. lol. so enough rambling, have fun reading this and the book, yays.


	14. New Pain, New Sights

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Everything was black around Harry, but he was used to this. This black though seemed to be a different type. It looked the same but felt different. He'd find patches of happiness that made him warm, and patches of anger and sadness that made him cold.

He opened his eyes, still unable to move. He could move, technically, but it only would be in small twitches, spasms of the muscles, or the slight movement of his fingers and toes. It was an improvement though, but he knew now the pain was filled with the healing power. Whenever the pain came, he could feel the holes being repaired. In a way, he hated when the magic decided to work on his brain, since the pain would seem to double up and he couldn't do anything to try to make it feel better.

His thoughts spun, knowing none made sense. Lately though, he had been seeing a lot more visions and felt a lot more pain, sometimes to the breaking point of insanity, yet never crossing.

_Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger, _the old saying went, crossing his mind quickly.

"How true," he responded aloud, his voice now raspy and barely above a whisper of breath.

He could still remember for some reason every moment the pain had gripped him, and thought he could figure out when he'd be able to move completely. He saw something outside the corner of his vision, causing him to shut his eyes. He was sick of the dreams and visions. They had started to mix together when he slept, which made it hard to sort out what was real and what wasn't. He just wanted all of this to be a dream.

The vision though came across Harry, slightly faded. He saw Voldemort in a room that was full of items, appearing to be creatures in jars and drawers that were labeled. Harry recognized them to be potion items, and the cauldron on the flame made the word "Duh" protrude largely in his mind.

Voldemort was stirring the cauldron, a book propped open on a stand. Harry saw the words: _Sleeping Draught. For nights only, use first recipe. For up to a month see second recipe. For longer than a month, see example at bottom of instructions. For a year, use third recipe. For longer than a year, see example at bottom of instructions. For Drought of Eternal Rest, use fourth recipe._

Harry saw Voldemort was reading the first recipe, a finger running along one of the middle lines. Harry looked at the transparent sky blue potion, but once the next ingredient was added, the color changed to a bright orange, dimming then to a maroon. It turned thick, Harry glad he couldn't smell it since it was a vision, but on the look of Voldemort's face, there either wasn't a smell, or he was ignoring it.

_I wonder what he's using the sleeping potion for. He meant it to be used for me, not him. Unless he has his own nightmares and dreams? No, he's the Dark Lord, he doesn't have any nightmares. He _is_ a living nightmare, destroying my life. He makes the Dursley's look like angels, _Harry thought with a feeling close to disgust.

The vision faded and left him, another once coming right after, clearer. Harry saw he was in the common room, Voldemort sitting in a corner with a book. Everyone seemed drawn away, hurting and angering Harry. _What has he done?! It better berepairable..._ He knew that was a slim chance though.

Voldemort kept looking around the room, his eyes often landing on Ginny and another girl or two. The portrait door opened, a fourth year coming in whom Harry recognized and gave Voldemort a note before joining his friends. Voldemort read the note, Harry barely recognizing the scrawl across the outside to be Dumbledore's. _Oh no, _he thought, wishing this wasn't going to happen. _He's meeting with Dumbledore. This _cannot_ be good._

He watched Voldemort walk to the professor's office, give the password and calm down. He could sort of feel how Voldemort was feeling, and was unsure whether that was a good or bad thing. Good, maybe, since that only assured he was starting to heal. He watched and listened to Dumbledore's explanations, feeling Voldemort's heart race. He could tell the Dark Lord was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

Before he pulled out the pensieve, he asked, "Harry, are you alright? You look hot—your face is flushed."'

"I-I'm fine sir. Just a little nervous and excited to see the younger Tom."

Dumbledore looked at him for a couple of seconds, Harry wanting to scream and yell, "How can you not realize it's not me? It's Voldemort! Please tell me you're not going to show him..."

Dumbledore did, and showed Voldemort the memory, and could feel the hatred for the orphanage. The Dark Lord could keep a straight face, but not a steady heartbeat. He followed Dumbledore and listened to the tales the head matron Mrs. Cole told about Tom, and lead Dumbledore to the eleven year old. Harry noticed the boy looked just like his father, something that Merope had wished for.

To Harry, the young Voldemort acted like a stubborn brat who was used to getting what he wanted, and a bully. He used his power to frighten the younger kids and have animals do whatever he wanted, and could cause things to move. He already knew he could talk to snakes, and was happy to know he was a wizard instead of some sort of freak.

Harry didn't like his attitude, but continued watching, knowing his time was running short. Soon, the pain was going to kick in, and he wasn't going to be able to stand it, unlike every other time. He saw though, Dumbledore explain how to get to Diagon Alley, and when to board the train to Hogwarts. When he saw Dumbledore pull the real Voldemort out of the memory, the pain started in Harry's arms and legs, slowly crawling around his body like a parasite.

"His powers, as you heard, were surprisingly well-developed for such a young wizard..."

_No, focus. Focus Harry. Don't let the vision slide away. _He listened more than watched Dumbledore explain his thoughts and reasoning's to Voldemort, who sat stone still, hands clenched, heart pounding furiously... Harry started to fade out as Dumbledore finished the meeting, Voldemort letting himself shake visibly when he was out of the office.

His anger soared, Harry noticing the Dark Lord was nervous as well, to a large degree. "He knows to much. Way, _way_ to much," he said as he passed the stone gargoyle. "He has to be disposed of. Or his memory at least. I need to find a way to get rid of him without being obvious. But...no. No. He can't know so much!"

_Voldemort is pissed!_ Harry thought, close to smiling even though his body was starting to go into small convulsions. It was a lot better though than what normally happened to him. But, there was a good chance that this was only the beginning of the pain.

Unable to believe it, a vision came to him, Harry guessing it showing the current present of something that happened a few minutes ago. He saw Voldemort lifting up a glass with a thick, almost pasty blue/green liquid and drank it. Voldemort shuddered, a quick shiver running through Harry as well.

_So, that has to be the sleeping potion,_ Harry managed to think, soon letting out what he compared to a yell. His body twisted painfully, and he was beginning to have a harder time breathing. _Every time he takes that potion, I'm pretty sure it affects me and sends me into this...pain. _He 'yelled' again, just a noise of breath as his muscles tightened, the blood pulsing through him, sending his heart racing. But, he was healing. Through this torture, he was healing. Only, he didn't know how much more he could stand. A person could only deal with so much.

He could feel unconsciousness coming, shoving his thoughts out of the way. It was a sweet relief like every other time, and he was also relieved how his body didn't really seem to be trying to kill him, unlike the first time where his body couldn't deal with the overflow of unusable blood. How he survived that, he didn't know, and almost didn't care as long as he was still alive and it didn't happen again.

Once more the blackness pushed itself over his mind, his heart beginning to slow down, his body continuing to heal. It felt nice, for once—through the pain—knowing that he was healing and didn't seem to be dying. There was a chance he was going to get out of this okay, he hoped...

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okay, i will admit, that chapter isn't as good, but it get's better, i promise!!!!!!!!!!!!! just deal with this and i think the next chapter or two, and it'll start getting longer and awesome i think...hehehehe. i get violent later on too...hehehehehe. so yeah...i know how many of u are reading...so reviews, please? please??? and i'm sorry if i like, never reply to u or anything...i'm just lazy, and it's hard not to give anything away...so that's why i refrain from answering...but i do read them, and they make me happy!!!! hehe...so yeah...anyone else enjoy the seventh harry potter book??? i'm sad the series is over...tear...lol. well, until next time!!!

oh, and why the dumbledore vision isn't as descriptive as the last one, is...umm...idk. i dont know if i was to lazy to write it out, or idk...that might be it. and dumbledore _is_ suspicious; he just doesn't want to let on what he is thinking...and besides, this was a safe vision to show. so yeah...there's my thoughts behind that...hehe. so yeah, until next time!!!!


	15. Released

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When Harry next awoke, he didn't know how long he had been out. It was easier to move and breathe—which excited him greatly, and the magic seemed to have settled over him. He could feel the scars of the holes, especially in his mind. Yes, he was surprised he didn't die, and didn't quite know how and why he was still alive. He didn't know though if anything in his body or mind had changed greatly due to the torture. If anything, that was what he was scared of most.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he enjoyed how he could manage to think clearly, and even move his limbs—if not at a great rate. A quick slide and back of the arms and legs, and that was about it. He was breathing easier, and the pain only came in short jolts. If this kept up, he'd be healed pretty soon. But with the massive scarring of the brain and body, he didn't know how easily it'd be to move, real body or not. He was about to drift back into sleep, without any pain, when a vision came.

This one started out sudden, with Hermione shouting "Harry!"

Ron shoved Voldemort into an empty room, smashing his arm into Voldemort's throat. "You bastard—"

"Ron, calm down, but keep your arm there." Hermione quickly ruffled through the robes, finding the wand.

"I don't need that you know," Voldemort said, smiling.

"Quiet you. If you don't bring the real Harry out right this second, we'll make you pay dearly."'

Harry could tell Ron was very pissed off—his ears were turning a bright red, and his eyes held flame—and he had a feeling this vision was happening right at the moment.

"Sorry. If I could, I probably wouldn't, but right now he's currently healing from a small disaster that came upon him."

"It's been a month! What did you do to him?" Hermione asked, almost shrieking.

"You two are beginning to annoy me. If you don't release me, I'm going to take matters into my own hands."

"No, we're going to take matters into _our_ hands. We want Harry back now that we know he's in there, and we're going to stop you from tearing this school apart." Ron that time.

"And how would you do that?"

"Get you out of his head, for starters!" Hermione said.

"Oh really now?One, who has the power to do that? And two, you have a good chance of killing your friend. Just by the way."

The two stared at Voldemort, mouths slightly open with angry and almost unbelieving looks on their faces.

Hermione stared hard at the Dark Lord and said, "Well, we're willing to take the chance. If he's not dead now, then he won't die when we take you out."

She walked away, keeping the wand, Ron soon following. Voldemort watched them, fuming. _I know you're awake and watching this Potter. But I'm to attached to you for them to remove me completely. They can damn well try though, but it might also be for the best if you stay where you are instead of coming out and facing the world. If you're up to it, it's going to happen. Well, one way or another. But, go to sleep. Something's going to happen later, and you better be prepared. _

Harry struggled to stay awake, but Voldemort's power put him to sleep, the magic acting like a blanket. When he next awoke, it was by force, opening his eyes and seeing what Voldemort was seeing. Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, and McGonagall were above his bed, pulling him out. He was dragged out of the dorms and into the common, pulled soon into the hall and led to Dumbledore's office. No one spoke, and the trip was swift. Voldemort didn't struggle, even though he had an idea of what was happening.

"You do know there's a good chance this isn't going to work?"

Dumbledore looked into the eyes that Voldemort and Harry were looking out of, saying, "Under any other circumstances, yes, there would be little chance of this working. But, we have Professor Trelawney and Professor Snape, and then my brains. You're a little out of luck, Lord Voldemort."

Harry saw the gargoyle statue jump aside, allowing the small group up into the stairwell. When they reached the Headmaster's office, Professor Trelawney stood near Dumbledore's desk, her loose shawls draped over her, assortments of purple, silver, and gold. Her robes were pale colors of tan, teal, orange, and silver. With her large glasses, on the spot she would have been laughed at, but Harry had never seen her this serious—besides telling a prophecy.

Next to the doorway stood Professor Snape, who wore simple black robes, the edging a forest green. His hair was still greased down, the normal scowl on his face replaced with curiosity, amusement, and... Was there a hint of happiness hidden? Next to him was a wooden bowl, the liquid in it smoking. "It just finished, Headmaster," Snape said as the five of them entered.

"Well done, Severus. I trust you with these things."

"But you conveniently forgot to mention the use of this potion. I can gather an idea from the potion itself, but who's in there?"

Dumbledore looked back between Voldemort and Snape, finally saying, "You shall find out when we see if the potions works or not."

Voldemort finally seemed to lose control of his calmness. "Albus, you will regret this meeting, and be very thankful this boy isn't as strong as I."

"Oh, don't worry. Harry is as strong as you or I. He only has to learn to tap into those strengths and choose how to use them." Dumbledore held his wand up and ropes flew out around Voldemort, a gag securing his mouth for the moment. "I'm so sorry about this, Harry," Dumbledore said, looking past the eyes that gazed at him, looking at Harry himself.

Dumbledore turned towards Trelawney and Snape, nodding. The two came closer, Trelawney doing her thing first. "Evil Spirit in this boy, in this body, in this mind, I command you—_licentia. _This is not your home—_licentia_. This is not your original soul. _Licentia_—now." She blew a ground-up herb over Voldemort, Harry noticing the strange effects as he breathed it in.

Snape took his turn as Trelawney stepped back, and transfigured a piece of paper into glass, pouring some of the potion into it. He stayed silent, but it was obvious he was tense. He filled the glass to the top and walked over, removing the gag. "You spill any of this and you'll pay tenfold."

He shoved the glass into Voldemort's mouth, forcing him to drink it, while muttering an incantation to help guarantee all of it would be finished. As the drink started settling, Harry and Voldemort felt tingly, almost numb, but slowly the tingling grew into pain, which grew to almost death. Harry yelled, his voice mixing with Voldemort's. His own voice was light and raspy, hardly noticeable, while the Dark Lord's was deeper, filled with more pain.

Harry felt like his soul was being ripped out of his body, his mind on fire like the Armageddon had finally come. He lost all notion of where he was, who he was... All was lost except the pain. This pain in his mind was worse than all the episodes put together of where his body had almost killed him. And the thing he couldn't understand most was why he wasn't passing out. Or maybe he had passed out, and he was still imagining the pain that was grating his mind. Or maybe he was dead, and this was the pain of heading into the afterlife. Whatever it was though, it was black and wouldn't leave him.

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Red eyes were looking down at him, coming from all sides. They seemed to peer into him, looking him over. "You are protected. I have been banned from you. I will figure this magic out and come back. You haven't seen the last of me, Potter."

The red eyes glazed over, disappearing. A whimper escaped from the boy, who curled up into a tight ball, tears slipping down his face. _No, not again, please..._

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A voice came to him, dim. He didn't know who it was, and didn't care a whole lot. He liked the corner he had buried himself in to escape the pain, and didn't want to come out. Even though some of the horrid feelings had come through, he still had managed to block most. Even though coming out and opening his eyes would help answer who he was, he preferred the safe hole. Away... Away he could act how he wanted to act. Be his own person. But, those dreams lied outside of his safe hole. Could he go out and figure how to live again, to protect himself from getting hurt and used?

It was a risk he didn't want to take. The voice called out of him once more, almost pleading. _No, _he thought, _this is my hole. I'm not coming out until I'm ready and healed. No one's using me again. I'm never hurting myself again, or allowing anyone to touch me. This is the new me, whoever I am—was—before. _

He drifted off into sleep, keeping his barriers strong.

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teehee. well. here's chapter 15. It's a little better, but what happens now???? you'll just have to wait and see!!!! and i want to give a thanks to those of you who read and review!!!!! it makes me smile...and i've said that a lot. well, i do love all of you!!!!! the next chapter is a little umm...i think short and blah, so yeah, warning...and i'm starting to catch up to where i'm writing . ooo...lol. soo...hmm...i'll try to keep these posted often, before school starts. Once that week comes, i'll be working, swimming, and have school. almost no homework/computer time...grr...but that's in like three weeks, lol. so...until next update...which...lets shoot for mid-next week...hehe. reviews and i'll...attempt...at responding!!!! Thanx!!!!!!!!!!!!


	16. A Grim Awakening

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He was alone, but he didn't mind. He was perfectly fine where he was, and very comfortable. If only that nagging voice would go away. He couldn't tell what it was saying, but he didn't like the tone. It irritated him, and he wished it would go away. Maybe, though, if he could figure out what it said, he could figure out why it was bugging him.

He sighed and tried to fall back asleep, only the voice was coming back. It was muffled, but he thought he head an "r" sound. _No, if I hear it, it will pull me out of here. I know it, _he thought. Then, his thoughts turned pleading. _No, please, don't pull me out of my safe house. Please. If I come out, I...I don't know what'll happen. I don't want to be hurt. _

He wanted to bury himself deeper into the hole, but he wasn't strong enough, and there wasn't really anymore space. So, instead he curled into a tighter ball, _wishing_ he could go deeper. It wasn't working though. The voice still came to him, becoming harsher. The name was said clearer, but he refused to listen. Only, when it was the only thing around you, it was hard to ignore. The "r" sound turned into a "re", then "airy" and finally "_Harry."_

_No! Don't think...don't think, there's no name no name no name whatsoever. Go away, please. Why can't you just leave me alone?! _He felt tears slip out of his eyes as the voice pounded away at his ears, repeating "_Harry."_

Finally, to avoid insanity, he thought the word that was being drilled into him, and it pulled him out of his hole roughly. Not the way he was planning on coming out, if he ever did. The color became lighter, transforming towards white from the black he had been in.

He had thoughts and memories slammed into his head, jumbled. Flashes of things. His friends, his childhood, his years at Hogwarts. Ron. Hermione. Ginny. Cho. Cedric. Voldemort. Voldemort possessing him...the pain he was put in. Was put through. He never wanted to go through it again, for any occasion. _The final battle..._whispered across his mind like a lover's voice. _You can't escape it. It's your destiny._

_Destiny can fuck off for a little while. They may have pulled me from my spot into my body, but they can't make me wake up._

And he was left alone. He slept a lot and was barely ever conscious. He could hardly feel what was around him, and sharp pain would come to him sometimes, staying for short or long periods of time. One time he did want to wake up to see if he could get away from the pain, but he couldn't. His body wouldn't allow him. He thought something was given to him, but he wasn't sure. He was sure though of the sleep that came soon afterwards, and the blanket of magic that covered him.

He hadn't figured out what the magic was; it was just there, resting over him like a comforter. He liked it though. It was warm, comforting, and... Soft, like a parent's love. Maybe that's what it was. But, he wouldn't know what that felt like, since he never really had felt the feeling or... Maybe it was the warmth he enjoyed. Whatever it was, he didn't want it to leave.

He went to sleep, comfortable, once more uncaring if he woke up or not. One thing he noticed about the blanket was that it kept him from dreaming. He definitely liked that part. But how long would this keep up? The blanket would most likely disappear at some point in time, and the dreams would return. But what would they be about? He figured on nightmares, but about what? _Voldemort_ whispered across his mind, causing him shudder inwardly.

_No, I don't want to face him again, let alone want to _see _him again._

Then he realized it. He was afraid of the Dark Lord. But, after what happened, he had every reason to be. Not everyone had gone through what he had. He wished he was normal, but he knew that would never happen. Or maybe it could happen if he beat Voldemort. He had to prepare for that first, kill Voldemort, and not die in the end.

_Sleep, heal, do something except think. Get yourself away from these thoughts and everything will be okay._

And he did. He slept deeper and longer than he had for awhile, the blanket of magic never leaving him. When he next 'woke', he had a feeling he could open his eyes. He didn't want to though. He realized opening his eyes would be putting him back into the world, back into what had happened. But, it was like lying in a bed and knowing you should get up, that you _can _get up and not be tired all day, but you don't want to because you're too lazy.

He did it though. He opened his eyes, everything bright and blurry. He then shut them and groaned. It hurt. His throat felt like it was clawed by a cat, and his voice wasn't very strong yet. He couldn't make anything out though when he had opened his eyes, and felt almost compelled to try once more. He did, everything still bright and blurry.

He managed to keep them open for a couple of seconds, his eyes becoming used to the light at least. He shut them once more, becoming tired since he wasn't used to this much concentration. He slipped into a doze for a short period of time, annoyed when he realized he was awake again. He laid in his spot for awhile, enjoying the light feeling that was throughout him. When he attempted to open his eyes again, he was relieved that it was darker out. He kept his eyes open even longer, and everything wasn't as blurry. He blinked some of the sleep away, and attempted moving. His body wouldn't listen though. He was like a stone block. He could tip his head a little to the side, but that only brought stiffness and pain. He let out a slight cry of pain, closing his eyes.

He took in deep breaths, trying to calm his heart and the pain. It worked, and he wanted to continue trying to move, since no one was around him and he was awake now. _Shouldn't Madam...madam...oh no, I don't remember who the nurse is! Shouldn't...they...be out here watching me? Wouldn't something register that I'm awake? ...Even though I prefer this silence._

He first tried to move any part of his body, but was unsuccessful. He guessed, if anything, he was numb. _Maybe the longer my body's awake, the more my body will wake up. If I'm lucky..._ With only knowing he could slightly move his neck, he tipped his head once more to the right, the pain shooting through him, but not as bad. He moved his head to his left, the pain growing a little worse. When it faded, he slowly worked his muscles loose, taking a lot more energy than he thought he had. It was like working yourself out of sand, if you were buried.

He was exhausted, sweating, and breathing hard when the pain finally left him. The only plus side was he could freely move his head with only spasms of pain. The pain helped trigger feeling in the rest of his body, his muscles beginning to wake up. He could barely suppress a yell as pain rippled through him, beginning at his shoulders and moving down slowly, drawing each bit of twinge out. He thought he had tears flowing out of his eyes as he tried to stay still, but he couldn't tell. He felt like he was being stabbed with millions of needles, flowing into each nerve. He could breathe, but it hurt, and he regretted wanting to wake up his body.

He was unsure how long the pain lasted, how long his nerves were fried, learning to feel again. When the feeling did begin to fade, he felt light once more, but he could feel. He still stung in most places, but he enjoyed knowing the fact that he could move. He could feel the tears begin to dry, the sweat roll down his forehead, and his breathing become easier. He slowly lifted his arms up, a spurt of pain causing him to drop them. When it passed, he lifted his arms, and curled his hands into fists. He moved them side to side, fascinated, smiling. He couldn't move very fast, but it was an accomplishment.

He felt the exhaustion coming, and dimly noticed he couldn't remember anything. He didn't know where he was, really, who he was, and why he could barely move, being some of the quick highlighted thoughts. He slowed down in reaching the black abyss, and thought. Tried to remember _anything, _besides just waking up. Nothing. Panic gripped him, causing him to want to return to his body and find out what happened. He seemed to slip though, and fell into the darkness, the blanket back and wrapping him up. He noticed though how it wasn't as heavy and protective as before. Was it going to leave him soon? He didn't want that.

He grabbed on, desperate to keep it as long as possible. He liked its prescience; it made him fell safe. He never wanted that feeling to go away.

_It won't though. You have the love of your friends, _a voice whispered to him. _As long as you continue to keep your emotions and your friends, you will be fine. Just remember that. _

He snuggled with the blanket even more, and felt it become slightly heavier. He fell asleep, comforted that it was okay to be awake and that his love would protect him.

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hehe, wow, i updated when i said i was lol im just kidding, i wouldn't lie to all my lovely readers!!!!!!! Okay, so this definately isn't one of my favorite chapters, and i'm sorry it's kinda lame. the next one though...guess who harry meets!!! everyone!!!! lol. and some special guests he isn't to excited about, if he could remember who they are. Well. so. i think i'm gonna update next on sunday, cus school's starting soon, and it's going to become SO much harder to write and update...i'm barely going to have time to breathe...omg. to busy, not used to it...yeah. so. expect suday, and that'll be a fun chapter...sorry this one's kinda lame!!!!!  
oh  
and i'll respond to reviews again if i continue to get a nice amount danke!!! teehee. 


	17. Where the Bones Rest

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"Harry. Harry," a voice called to him.

He didn't want to wake, but since the blanket began to disappear, he moved, pain springing up, though not as bad as it had been.

"Oh my, he's alive," a female voice claimed.

Someone smoothed his hair as he opened his eyes, everything blurry. Something was placed over his eyes, his vision clearing. He saw four people above him, and two more to the side. One had a lot of wrinkles, a worried and happy expression in his blue eyes, his long silver beard reaching down and tickling the side of his arm. A second person also had grey hair, but it was on the lighter side towards white. She was wearing a white outfit, her expression relieved. To his left was another woman, overly large glasses sitting on her face, large groups of beads and shawls covering her. She looked almost awed, a pleasant smile lighting her face. The last person surrounding him was another man, this person having an unemotional look, his greasy long hair hiding part of his features. The man stared at him, seeming to look past his eyes into his mind.

"Where am I?" he simply asked, his voice raspy and a little more than a whisper.

"In the hospital wing, my boy," the one with the long beard answered. His voice was gentle, yet held a control of power and command. "You gave us all quite a scar a while ago, when we pulled the Dark Lord out of your mind."

He kind of knew what the man was talking about. But what he remembered was how he felt. Nothing else. "Who are you?" he asked next.

The two women gasped, the greasy haired man looked at him intently, disbelief on his face, the old man standing still, the pleasant smile slightly gone. "Do you not remember?" he asked, getting a shake of the head in response.

"His mind is completely blank and there's nothing to read...Not unless I look," the greasy haired man muttered close to the older one.

"That does not surprise me, Severus, and I ask that you refrain yourself from looking." He turned back towards him. "Well, I guess to start things off, I am Professor Dumbledore. This next to me is Madam Pomfrey. Across from her is Professor Trelawney, and next to her is Professor Snape. We have been taking care of you for the past three weeks. You have been in a coma-like state, and only just recently began to respond to people around you. You were badly injured on the inside of your body, though we're unsure still as to how it happened. We were able to heal most of it, and your magic we think has been doing the rest. It is unusual, but not unheard of. Not everything was repairable. I want you to understand this, Harry."

"Harry?"

"Oh god. The boy doesn't even know his own name," the man with the greasy hair said. Dumbledore looked at him, the other man slightly shaking his head. "I thought he still remembered. It's there, but apparently not on top.

"It's to be expected though. Several things have been lost. Hopefully it will come back soon, but we can only wait and help. Now, to start off, your name is Harry James Potter. You are a wizard."

"Okay. I sort of remember." He swallowed, trying to wet his throat. "What happened? When will I remember?"

He was offered a glass of water, and he accepted it gladly. The older man—_Dumbledore—_started speaking. _He's either really smart, or likes to hear himself talk, _he thought to himself. "Well, we were actually hoping you could tell us that. You had the Dark Lord—Voldemort," everyone flinched, except for the greasy haired man, "—in your mind, and when we found out, we decided to take him out. You should have been okay afterwards, but we noticed something wrong when you passed out."

The older man looked at the nurse and the one with the greasy hair. "Your body was shutting down, and you had blood coming out of your mouth, nose and ears, mostly, some droplets coming out of other places. You put us in grave worry, Harry. Madam Pomfrey found out what was wrong, even though we were all flabbergasted as to how you had attained these injuries. That's what we were hoping you could explain to us."

"How did you know I was awake though?"

"Madam Pomfrey came to check on you, and your brain has been much more active than it had been for the past week. It surprised her, so she called me down. I do admit, the significance in patterns is astounding. And you responded whenever I called your name."

He nodded, still unsure of what exactly was going on. "So now what?"

"Just rest, and I'll come see you tomorrow. We'll work on your amnesia, and see if we can figure out how much of your memory is actually gone, and how much is hidden."

The boy nodded, the adults leaving except the nurse. One of the other two...teens, he noticed, that was sitting on the side stood up. He was tall, with bright red hair, and a spray of freckles around his face. He looked sort of nervous, as well as the girl sitting next to him. She had long brunette hair, reaching to the middle of her back. The hair was curly, to the point it was bushy. She also looked worried, her hands grasping each other tightly.

"Is it all right if we see him?" the tall redhead asked.

The nurse looked from the boy standing up, to him, then back to the tall boy. "Well, I suppose. You have five minutes."

She walked away, the girl jumping up and the two coming to him. He looked at them, unknowing of what to think or do. "Harry! Are you feeling...umm...better?"

He shrugged, a sharp pain shooting through his muscles, soon fading. "Who are you?"

The two looked at each other, both sighing. The boy spoke first, sounding unsure. "Um...well Harry, I'm Ron Weasley. I've been your friend basically since the first moment I met you five years ago. I don't know...we've done a lot together, and my family loves you."

The girl spoke, voice wavering like it was on the edge of crying, even though her eyes weren't very watery. "And I'm Hermione Granger. I've also been your friend since our first year, though not as soon as Ron. You like, as well as Ron, to have me help you through school, and Harry, you're an amazing wizard. I'm just clever and smart. If you would like, we could give you what we know of your most recent memories...of maybe what happened before...well, long before Dumbledore took the Dark Lord out of your mind."

_Harry. I guess my name _is_ Harry if these two are calling me by it. A start to my past. The new question is, how do I want to figure it all out? Will it come to me with time, or will these people help me remember? Do I even _want_ to remember? I don't know. I know there's a large amount of it I would like to remember, but is that possible? I don't know, maybe._

He looked back up to the two who were claiming to be his friends, and nodded. "I want to know how I was acting, and what happened to get...umm...the Dark Lord out of my mind." He decided that could be a safe enough start, especially since the two nodded.

The girl—_Hermione­_—started first. "Well, we first noticed your different attitude over the summer. You were, in general, an ass."

"More so than normal," the boy—_Ron_—commented, the girl—_Hermione, I have to remember that—_jabbing him in the side.

"Ron, that's not nice! He wants to know the basics, so we're going to tell him! It might help him remember." She turned to him. "And Harry, you are not an ass normally."

She continued on, giving a version of what happened in roughly four minutes. It was a lot of talking, most Hermione, Ron supporting her when she couldn't remember everything. They summed up his questions well, and provided some information that cleared up other questions he had thought of. The information helped crack the wall that was blocking the memories, one or two coming back to him as they spoke. They lasted only a couple of seconds, but he realized he enjoyed having them back. _I guess I like knowing who I am. But how am I going to release the others? I need something that will act as a...a...jackhammer or wrecking ball or something._

They wrapped it up, Harry—_my name!—_asking, "Tell me about my past. I want to remember."

Hermione and Ron grinned, wondering if his memory was starting to come back. Ron was about to speak when the nurse stormed in, claiming the two had been there for ten minutes and it was time to leave.

"But, Madam Pomfrey!" Hermione protested. "We're helping him recover his memory. It's working!"

The nurse—_Madam Pomfrey, have to remember that—_looked at the two, saying, "Well, you can come back tomorrow. I have potions that can help him remember. If you say it _is_ coming back, then there is hope."

The two left, and she turned to Harry. "Is it true you're starting to remember?" He nodded, noting the hint of happiness and hope in her stern voice. She smiled, saying, "Oh, there is hope! Well, I want you to take this potion. It'll make you sleepy, so don't fight it. It helps relax your entire mind, and makes it easier to dream. Hopefully the dreams are memories. Professor Trelawney said she will come in the morning and help you travel through your dreams, deciding which are just dreams and which are actual memories." Under her breath, Harry barely caught "But who knows with her. I'd put my money down saying she won't come."

She handed him a mostly clear potion that was slightly tinged pink. He drank it, a sour taste staying in his mouth. He shuddered as the potion slid down his throat, a thick slimy feeling sticking afterwards. He wanted to cough, but he just tried to keep his mouth shut from vomiting.

He felt the thickness flow through him, and it was tempting to fight it with how fast it was spreading. He relaxed, and let it consume his mind. He drifted off into sleep, dreams bombarding his mind soon after.

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It was dark, the air cool enough to have fog across the ground and for his breath to mist. He crossed over the hills, the dew from the grass sticking to his pants and shoes eagerly. He didn't know where to go, but was pulled to the south. He didn't like the feeling that was pulling him. It was dark and evil, leaving a feeling of dread behind. He couldn't fight against it though, as hard as he tried. His body was put on automatic, and he wanted to be in control, switch to manual.

Finally he quit resisting and let himself be guided. When he was allowed to be put into control, he looked around, seeing he was in a graveyard. Beyond it was a broken down house, ready to collapse in any second. It seemed to fit with the graveyard. Most of the tombstones were weathered and chipped, while some were destroyed.

He crossed the graveyard carefully, looking around. He stopped when he heard a man's voice, ringing familiarity. "Wormtail, do not question what has happened. If I ever decide to tell you, you will most likely end up dead soon afterwards. I was pushed from the boy's mind, and that is all you need to know. I thank you though for taking care of my body. I couldn't bear to lose it again."

"Th-thank y-you my Dark Mmmaster," a voice whimpered in return.

Harry heard movements inside the house and quickly jumped behind one of the larger tombstones, listening carefully and trying to control his breathing and heart rate. The old shabby door creaked open, footsteps coming down the falling apart stairs. Harry paused his breathing as the Dark Master-guy started speaking. "Now, Wormtail, we are going to try a new form of magic. I believe I have become strong enough to attempt it. When I was in the boy's mind, I learned how to pull his magic to do my bidding. That's how I managed to survive for so long and no one became suspicious.

"Dumbledore I believe might be able to use this spell, but he's too noble to use his powers for such things. And if he ever did use this spell, I would probably be controller of the world. The last time this magic was used was I believe in the dark ages. Once you see it preformed, you will understand why it was banned right away."

There was some shuffling of dirt and cloth, and Harry heard who he guessed was Wormtail let out a sharp cry of pain. The smell of blood soon reached Harry. "_Motuus beine suscitatio. _I offer you this blood of a willing servant. Feed on it and awake. I will _imperium _you and you will seek _ultionis_ on the _vita_ around you. _Motuus _bones awake, _cruentus _bones awake, _viscus _bones awake."

Harry felt the magic pulse through the ground with every word, especially the one's that seemed to be in Latin. And, the ground seemed to respond. A white thing shot up in front of Harry, who soon realized it was a hand. Many more followed around the gravesite, soon arms and heads, rocking the dirt. Harry barely muffled a scream as the dirty hand moved, an arm soon appearing. Each bone stood out defiantly in the moonlight, as a shoulder popped out, then the neck and head. There was still hair on the skull, wispy strands falling off in seconds. The skull looked at the ground, trying to free the rest of its body. When it managed to get out and crack every bone into place, it seemed to notice Harry.

Harry shrunk back against the headstone, unable to move anywhere else because the other—_what is it? Wizards!—_could see him, and the bones could grab him. The skull leaned towards him, creamy white maggots falling out of its eye sockets. It opened its mouth, showing mostly white teeth, some yellow and even black.

"_Alles aus heir." _the one voice called out, the bones looking over and walking away jerkily, trying to not fall apart. Harry's heart was racing, the stench of death cultivating in his nose and mouth. Finally he noticed the voice was speaking, and he barely caught the beginning of what he thought was a speech.

"I have called you all awake for this short period of time, to ask of your services. I am looking for helpers, for followers, and I want you. You see, you all are dead. Your souls have left your bodies. You body has deteriorated off of you. I can bring all of that back though. Apparently you still have a trace of your soul if I managed to summon all of you awake.

"What my deal is to you if you help me out: If you join me, you can live again. Every person you kill, especially witch or wizard, your body will heal. You will grow muscle, nerves, skin, features. You will be able to breathe and run. But, in order for all of this, you have to help me out. You will have to fight for me. If we win, every muggle is yours. I recommend heading after them since there are more of them to choose from. All newborn babies carry a sort of magic. If they are a wizard, their magic grows since it has a matching environment to depend on, grow around. If it turns to be a muggle, the magic fades with the umbilical cord. Go after those ones, and leave the wizard and witch newborns to my Death Eaters.

"Once you are human again, I will treat you as such. I will have you become a Death Eater if you have magic, or use you for other purposes if you are weak in magic. If you turn muggle, I will find other positions for you to fill.

"If you are with me, stay up here, if you are against, return to your graves and I will put you back to sleep."

No one moved. Harry had peeked around the corner of the tombstone, seeing a mass of white boney bodies. Since this was an old graveyard he guess, no one had any remaining skin on them. The man who had spoken had milky white skin, thin as paper, every muscle and bone standing out in his face. Maybe that was another reason why the skeletons listened to him; he seemed to resemble them, only with skin. The man had ruby red eyes, with a slit nose that reminded him of a reptile. His voice was cold and high, used to given commands and having them obeyed. His robes hung loosely on him, showing off nothing besides the boney hands.

The man who had given the blood was almost passed out on the stairs, his right arm sliced open, the grip on his arm becoming loose. "Help...you promised again..."

The Master guy turned around, muttering a spell to the crippled man. The cut healed and the color returned to him. His arm was still red with blood, his robes not looking any better. Harry instantly didn't like the man. He didn't know why though. The man was skinny, but his skin was slightly loose around his arms and face, looking like he had once been very pudgy. Not fat like his..._uncle?_ Harry thought, the memory rolling away. The man had sharp beady, watery eyes, looking like they were used to pouting like a spoiled child. Or maybe from a lot of pain. He had a slightly long nose, buck teeth, and long fingers, where one pointer was missing.

When the man looked at his master, Harry ducked, afraid to be seen. Soon, the commander spoke, his voice reaching far. "I see that you all have chose the right choice. I am going to send you back into your graves, but it will not be like the peaceful sleep you were once in. My presence will be in a trace of whatever soul remains, so you will know where to find me when I call you.

"On your way, please, cause as much damage as possible. Just don't allow yourselves to get caught is all. Hide during the day; you'll be able to dig yourselves underground for awhile. Once you start developing your human features, then it'll become harder. I'll try to stay somewhat close, so it'll only take a couple of nights to reach me. Understood?"

There was the crack of heads, all nodding. The bones turned around, heading for their graves, Harry knowing he had to get out of the site now or else he would be caught.

Hunched over, he rand to the next closest grace, after making sure the two men weren't looking. At the end of the graveyard, Harry noticed he was stuck until he figured out how to get across the wooden fence without making to much noise. The bones were putting themselves back into their graves, causing much noise. _Now or never, _he thought, taking a deep breath and scrambling over the feeble log bars.

"Master!" Wormtail, he guessed, called.

But he was free. They couldn't hurt him. He thought he heard the wiser voice say, "How did he—? No worries, Wormtail, no worries..."

Harry tripped over a rock, and instead of falling onto his face like he expected, he fell into a black hole that was opening rapidly and bringing him into it before shutting, locking him in darkness.

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YAY!!!!! lol. chapter 17 is here!!!!!!!!!!! And Harry has awoken...and Voldemort is plotting...this is going to get pretty awesome... I have plans for this story, but they aren't even close to being written out yet. So that means this is going to be a LONG one!!!!!!!!! i hope you really dont mind...But, i dont know when the next update is going to be. I have to type up the next chapter, and tomorrow school starts...So, i'll have school, marching band, work, swimming, and i'm on the school newspaper. XP to much stuff to do. Sorry, i'm trying not to complain or anything, i just want you to know why i'm not going to be updating very much. And i'm not going to be home on the weekends for the next two weeks, i think...omg, no computer access!!!! I think i'm gonna die...welll...please try not to kill me when i dont update soon...i'm really really REALLY sorry...i'll try though to make it sometime this week or next week... .   
soo...yes. and if you're into the Covenant, the movie, then you should check out my new story...umm...doesn't have a title yet. Hmmm...Darkness sounds cool. yeah. you should be awesome and look at it if your into that!!!!  
AND OMG!!!!! I'M SO SORRY FOR RAMBLING!!!!!!! Thanks to my reviewers for, well, reviewing!!!!


	18. Beyond Just a Dream

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"Harry...Harry!" A voice called to him, sounding worried.

He felt something placed on his head, a slight trickling sliding down his temples. He groaned, dizzy, even though his eyes were still shut.

"Oh good, his breathing and pulse is steadying to normal," A female's voice noted.

"Harry, can you hear me?" a man's voice asked. He nodded, still not wanting to open his eyes. "Are you feeling all right?" He shook his head. His forehead felt like it had been ripped apart, and he felt sick. "Do you think you can explain what happened?"

He shook his head again, mumbling, "I don't remember. Why does my head hurt?" He brought a hand to place it on his head, but met something wet and cloth-like. The added pressure helped relieve some of the pain though.

"Your scar Voldemort gave you is probably causing your head to hurt. It tends to hurt if you encounter a vision, or one of Voldemort's moods. In this case, I think you had a vision, and I would like to know what it was, so we can prepare for it. If you give your permission, I have you drink something so you remember."

Harry opened his eyes at that, the light almost blinding as the room seemed to wave sideways. His vision seemed to clear as his glasses were placed on his head, so the sight of... _What was his name? Dumbledore? I...I think that's it. And Madam Pomfrey. Right..._came into focus. "If you give me something to help me remember the vision, why don't you give me something to bring back my entire memory?"

"Because your mind is still damaged, and your memory still hasn't come back. Once there are signs your amnesia is going away, then we will start giving you potions to help you along."

"Well, I want to get back to my normal life! I want to play Quidditch, get out of this hospital since I've been here to many times, get back to my classes, and apologize to everyone that I made mad at me! I'm almost positive the entire Gryffindor tower hates me, as well as Ginny. I want to kill Malfoy, and figure out how to avoid going home this summer. I want to remember everything, and kill Voldemort for putting me in my current state. I hate how he's had some sort of attack on me ever since I've arrived here, and I'm sick of it."

Harry was fuming, and Dumbledore was smiling gleefully. "And what's so goddamn funny? I don't think I've ever seen you this happy," Harry said, giving Dumbledore a calculating look.

"Your memory is coming back. Excellent. I don't think your friends were able to tell you all of that yesterday, and by the look on Madam Pomfrey's face, my thoughts are confirmed. You can get back to Quidditch as soon as you have the strength, you _have_ been here too many times in the past, you'll receive help on the homework you missed, the Gryffindor tower may be a little against you when you return, you may not kill Mr. Malfoy, you have to go home this summer, you may or may not remember everything, and your time with Voldemort will come eventually."

Dumbledore continued to smile at Harry, and Harry didn't know how those thoughts came to him. They just sort of slipped out of his mouth by accident, brief pictures coming along with them. "So, I can't go yet?"

Dumbledore shook his head, his grin fading a little. "I'm sorry my boy, but at least now I know that I can start giving you small amounts of potions to help you heal quicker. You may never be healed completely though. I want you to understand that. You have holes in your body from a serious spell and we're unsure still of what has caused it. But, even if we knew what it was, we probably wouldn't be able to fix it. I want you to know that. You may be weaker in your magic, or unable to stand up for long periods of time. Your thoughts may be harder to focus on, or your memory will never return past this. It's hard to say. But we may be able to help you heal more proficiently... Only time will tell."

Harry nodded, seeing the harsh truth. "Can I at least move around? I can feel my muscles, and I need to build my strength up again."

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course. But, this is a decision that rests with Madam Pomfrey. To me, you look perfectly capable. To this lady though, she may see you unfit for another week."

Madam Pomfrey looked at Harry, thinking. "Well, we can try moving you tomorrow. It'll be good for your body, and it will tell me how damaged your bones and muscles still are. I was able to repair your bones easily, and help guide your muscles to healing. You'll need a lot of help though. You haven't really moved since you arrived here so your body is bound to be weak."

Harry nodded, already aware of this. He didn't know why, but the hospital wing seemed to be getting kind of boring...annoying..._since the last time,_ he thought, brief flashes from before coming into his mind. "Okay, that works I suppose. I just...need to move. I don't know why."

"You like to move around," Madam Pomfrey said. "Tomorrow I can help you start, and see how much progress you can manage to achieve. If you manage to get out of your bed without my help, that is a very good start. If you also want, I believe Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger would love to help you."

Harry nodded, remembering the two. "That would be nice. How many potions am I going to have to take?"

Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore shared a look. "Three or so I think to start," the nurse said, a thoughtful look on her face. "One or two for your mind, and then one or two more, most likely two, to help fill in the holes in your muscles. Maybe one more if you have a hard time sleeping. So, no more than five."

Dumbledore nodded, then gave a slight bow. "I will visit you once you are able to move. If you can move by yourself before the winter holidays, I will allow you to leave the school. If you rely on somebody more than yourself, you will have to stay."

Harry nodded, a little confused. "How long until the holidays?"

"Three weeks, I believe. Best start walking tomorrow." With that the wizard left, his silver hair sparkling against his deep royal blue robes, looking like stars in the setting sky.

Once the doors shut, the medi-witch turned a little harsher. "Okay, you need your rest. As much as you need to get around and move, you need to sleep to help rebuild your energy. This is _not_ going to be easy, and with what the headmaster told you about how your body may never completely heal is true. You've been unconscious for roughly three weeks, and it's quite surprising that you just began responding to us. I think, though, that you've been conscious longer than I've been aware of. I'll begin giving you the potions tomorrow. So, until then, sleep well. Maybe you'll start to remember a little more of whom you are."

Harry watched the nurse pull the curtains around his bed, then listened to the footsteps leading out of the room. He sighed, trying to relax. _If I fall asleep, then maybe I'll remember, and be able to figure out who I am..._

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"Mmm-Master, what do you pred-dict—"

"_Wormtail!_ Stop that insufferable stuttering right now! I would have thought that being in my presence this long would make you more comfortable around me. If you do not learn to grow up, then I will be forced to remove you in many different ways that would not be enjoyable. I'm sure another loyal Death Eater will be more than happy to exchange places."

"Master! None are as loyal as I, and you will have to deal with the burden of basically training whoever comes to take care of youq! I sought you out specifically, and I stayed with your body, took care of it while any other would have dumped it or even killed it."

"This is all true. Through your surprise you stopped your stuttering. As much as I love knowing you are terrified of me, it does get annoying after awhile with the obviousness. Now, I have no interest in replacing you, since it would take to much work. Continue with your predictions."

Harry glanced around the darken halls, the partial open door showing a bare room, with one large chair close to the roaring fireplace, and a large dark rug that was too far away to see any details. He saw the once-shaky man standing next to the chair, now holding his hands together, looking more relaxed than he had been. _Wormtail, I think his name is, according to the master-guy... _He noticed how the dark hall, layers of dust, large chair, and the roaring fire pulled at another memory, bits coming back as the voices continued on.

"Well, I was more like wondering what you made of the Potter-boy, or even the illusion."

"It was Potter. I could feel him, especially his mind, filled with those useless emotions. I had felt his presence I think when he first arrived there, but I thought it was a jolt of my power." The raspy breath took a pause, Harry thinking the person was drinking a glass of water. "But of course it was the real boy. So, he heard my speech and saw the bones, and managed to escape. And you're positive you found absolutely nothing?"

By the flinch Wormtail gave, he guessed the master had glared at him. "I'm positive sir. There were no footsteps or anything. It has made me very angry."

"Surprising...nothing left behind? No footsteps even? Quite unusual. I am going to have to think of some possible reasons for this."

"Do you think he remembers Sir? Would Dumbledore know about this?"

"No. I'm sure he doesn't remember, and there would be nothing Dumbledore could do, even if he knew what I was planning. Leave. I wish to think. If you find Nagini, have her come to me."

Wormtail nodded and left the other man, Harry scrambling to get out before he was caught. He tried to be silent, but it was hard to do that and not raise any dust off of the ground. He slipped down the familiar stairs, cringing and moving a little faster whenever he made a noise. On the third stair from the bottom, the wooden step groaned under his weight, Wormtail finally realizing someone was there.

"Who's there?" he called, moving down the steps even faster.

Harry jumped down, scrambling to get out of the house. He ran through what he guessed was a kitchen, and saw a back door. When he reached it, though, the door was rusted shut almost. He cursed silently, thought for a second, then whispered "_Alohamora."_ The door clicked open, Wormtail entering the kitchen.

"Stop!"

Harry ran faster, his goal to make it to the end of the property. He figured that there he could be transported back to the hospital...like the last time. He could hear Wormtail panting behind him, anger pushing him on. If he was caught... Harry didn't want to know what would happen.

"Potter, if that's you—_stupefy!"_

Harry dropped to the ground and rolled, instinct kicking in. He saw the red light fly over where he had been standing. He jumped back up, stumbling as he saw the end of the property coming up. He saw the black hole and pushed on.

He reached the black portal, jumping through as he heard Wormtail yell "_Stupefy_" again. He wasn't about to look back at his pursuer or the spell, but he knew the spell was close, along with Wormtail. The portal swallowed him up, for once him glad of the blackness. Hopefully it dumped him into a dream, or a memory, or even a nightmare, as long as he wasn't in one of _these_—a vision or something like that, Dumbledore said...

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He stared at the man, watching the turban slowly unravel. Suddenly, he didn't want to know what was underneath, although he had a pretty good idea. His mind was blank, though the occasional memory from that one night would pass through his mind, now with his mum's screaming and his dad's voice. They gave him the will though to continue fighting. If it weren't for this one man, he'd have his parents; have a normal life, maybe. He vowed down in that chamber, while facing Quirrel, that Voldemort would die. He knew they both couldn't live at the same time. If Dumbledore died, was ever killed, Harry would have to take over.

Eleven years old and already making lifelong decisions.

His professor took the end off of his head, turning around. A _face_ was looking at him, looking rather angry. "Harry Potter," it said, voice raspy and quiet. "You know too much. Your death will be soon, and there's nothing you can do. One by one your friends will die by my hand. Just imagine—"

Images went through his mind in seconds, though it seemed like minutes, or even longer. Ginny, body black waist down from a fire, her legs a bubbly mass of charred skin, clothes melted onto her in some places, if it wasn't burned off. Her shirt was ripped, displaying knife wounds, her head chopped mostly off, hanging on barely by any skin. Her eyes were wide, hands in the gesture of moving towards her neck. Her hair was scattered wildly, darker with the layers of blood.

Hermione was next, her death not as gruesome. She was cut down the middle, both halves slightly folded back like they wanted to get away from each other. Her heart was missing among the spilled organs, though the rest of her body seemed untouched.

Ron was third, his skin colored red, black and blue. His hands and feet were black, arms and legs blue, the rest a bright, burned red. His face seemed to be a mess of flesh and muscle, but the area around his eyes was untouched except for the missing eyelids. Cuts on the rest of his body showed discolored blood and muscle, assuring that his death had been long and painful.

The rest of the visions passed, showing the rest of the Weasley's, Neville, Luna, some of his professors, and finally Hogwarts, which was a smoldering heap of rubble, dead student bodies lining the ground everywhere. Parts of the school was still standing, though they were barely on their last brick. The front of the school had been completely demolished; Hagrid's boots visible under one pile of the rubble. The back half of the school had a few walls standing, however too much had been destroyed, showing it would be nearly impossible to rebuild the school in any way.

Harry opened his eyes, his lungs beginning to work again as he let out his breath and taking in another. He was on his knees and shaking. He wanted to curl up and hide, wanting none of this to happen. In a way, it was obvious things wouldn't happen like this, but in another way, it could be just as true as his visions. Still, he didn't like it.

"Join my side and none of this will ever happen. This can just be a dream, but if you refuse, then this will be another vision, a warning of what _will _happen. Join me, Harry, and you will be safe."

"No. I'm not going to be safe. This is my first year here, when Quirrel was alive. This isn't going to happen if I can help it."

"It will if I can take control of things. Now seize him!"

Harry jumped out of the way as Quirrel came at him. He rolled down the stairs, more worried about getting out of this place alive than injured. He could hear Quirrel's footsteps and pushed himself off of the ground, trying to find a way out. Nothing was there, besides the Mirror of Desire, or Erised, and the crazed teacher. "Boy, get back here!"

"Never!"

Quirrel though, was much bigger than Harry. He caught Harry soon, spinning the boy around and slapping him. Harry's head spun as the professor grabbed his wrist, trying to look into the dazed emerald eyes.

"Mmm-Master! My skin, it burns!" Harry slowly looked at the Professor's hand, seeing raw, blistered skin. Harry pushed the man off of him, making sure to touch open skin areas.

"Get him anyway!" Voldemort yelled.

Harry began dodging again, getting grabbed around the ankle and hitting his shoulder on the edge of a stair, pain numbing his arm after a burning sensation went through. "I have you now, brat," the possessed Professor said.

As Harry was turned over onto his back, Harry grabbed Quirrel's face, pushing him away. The man recoiled, but Harry stayed attached. His scar was melting though, the pain boiling higher and higher. His head was ripping open, there was no way to stop it... He couldn't tell who was screaming anymore—he thought his voice was louder... Then complete bliss. Death or unconsciousness, this was what he wanted. He felt light, happy, and in no pain of any kind. This type of death was amazing.

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"Poppy, what's wrong?"

"I'm not sure exactly. I...I think it's his magic. I think it's growing, but it's killing him in the process."

_Hot...so hot...can't...breathe. Need water..._

"What has your scans come up with?"

"Short of breath, rapid rise in temperature, sweating, shaking, muttering, eyes rolling, the occasional muscle spasms and brief moments where his heart has failed."

"And you're positive it's because his magic is growing?"

"Unless you're can think of something else. His brain waves are astounding. Every part is jumping, his more conscious core almost off the scale. I had to restart his heart at a couple of the jumps."

"How did you realize all of this was happening?"

"The floor began to vibrate, and then the rest of my room. It has barely just stopped. Can you do anything Albus?"

"There's nothing I can do. His magic needs some sort of release, and the reason why I think the floor stopped vibrating was because once I reached the wing, my magic began fighting Harry's magic. If I stay here, the two of us will clash, and hopefully the boy will calm. If not...I don't know. I don't want to subdue him, since it can stop the process and kill him or diminish it so there will be little difference once he awakes. You have to remember that it's a once in a lifetime thing."

"You're right. Only... Only powerful wizards or witches receive this, right? Maturing of their power?"

"Not quite a 'maturing,' more of a completion. It falls along the lines of the mind realizing the power it has now is controlled, and the rest can be released from the back part of the mind. I received mine when I was twenty-three, in the middle of a meeting. As much as it hurt, it was one of the happiest days of my life. Dear Tom received his when he was seventeen, right before the N.E.W.T. exams if I remember correctly. I suspect Ms. Granger and Mr. Ron Weasley will go through this as well. You never had one, did you Poppy?"

"No, no, I never did."

"Don't be upset. A lot of people don't have them. Harry had a strong mother and father. It's only natural for half of the power to show, then later for the rest to appear. Interesting time though for him, that's for sure..."

_Water...Thirsty. Throat hurts... "_Water," he gasped out, unable to move much more.

There was an intake of breath and a sharp gasp, soon followed by a clinking of metal and glass. Soon, something was poured into his moth, the coolness feeling quite soothing. He was helped with swallowing, the liquid in his throat feeling even better. He was still hot though, his breathing ragged and uneven, his heart pumping fast. He wanted to disappear into sleep, but it seemed like he wasn't allowed. There was silence around him, making him nervous.

"Albus, he will be alright, right?"

"Yes, don't worry. Keep an eye on him though. He is still in danger to 'accidents,' so to say. Help him fall back asleep, but no potions for now."

"Yes, sir."

Another shuffling of feet, an opening of a door and the soft shutting. He was relieved at the noises, but once more, the silence seemed to unnerve him.

"Noise," he whispered, starting to fidget, but still unable to completely wake up. His throat still hurt, a lot, like he had been screaming or something relevant to that. He managed though, to drag out "to silent."

He heard the female gasp, but say, "Well, Mr. Potter, you really are in no condition to speak. Have more water, it may suit you." A pause as more of the liquid was put into his throat. "I say, you are sometimes quite a burden, but you always seem to need help... In the end though, you are a brillant and talented young man. I wish your parents could see you today."

The voice helped calm him down, the person seeming to notice as well. She continued to speak to him, him slowly drifting to sleep. This way, it was easier to ignore how hot he was, how fast he was breathing, how much his throat still hurt, how much his entire body hurt, and how much he didn't remember. He relaxed nonetheless, slipping into a slumber, the person and him relieved.

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Welll...it's finally here...Yeah..the next update will definately be next week, since i'm not going to be home thursday-monday, and as far as i know, there won't be any computers...damn. so. let's see...umm...what was i gonna say...hmm... Well, the visions, they are like his old visions, like in the 5th book. Only, since his powers are growing, the visions are stronger and pull like, a mental image of himself into the dream. my thoughts get lame and rediculous right about here. lol. Anyone watch the show Charmed? Astro-Projection is kinda what i'm getting at. Lame? yea, sorta, but it allows me to do what i want with my story. i'm sorry if none of you really like it...it just fits in, sorta... and because of the astro-protection, harry doesn't leave footsteps...but he can make sounds...a flaw...whoops. and I dont like how a witch/wizard person has to have a wand to direct their magic, so to say. So, since i dont like that, i think that Harry, Hermione, Ron, Dumbledore, etc, (anyone who has a lot of magic) doesn't always have to have a wand if they can focus their magic on one thing. i hope that makes sense.

Next thing. The nightmare/memory, yeah, that's basically what it is. It's a nightmare basically, but has the thoughts and stuff to be sort of a memory. more of a nightmare, with his current thoughts put into it.

And what's going on with harry's powers, that will be explained much more fully in the next few chapters.

so, i'm hoping you all didn't mind this chapter...it seems a little not as exciting...welll...idk. And i'm working on another story, Darkness, so that's what's holding up this story. I'll try to update though as soon as i can!!! Thanks everyone for reviewing!!! I'm getting into this whole answering thing, lol.


	19. The First Steps

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Harry awoke finally, feeling sore but well rested. Or, at least more so than he usually felt. His mind seemed to be in a dull roar. Fuzzy images were beginning to come to him, but a new question appeared: Will these fuzzy images ever become real memories? He hoped they would, or at least enough of them so he could figure out who he was exactly. People could tell him every single thing he's done in his life, but it's not the same as the actual memory. What the people see is what they see; everyone has a different view on life. Two people could see the exact same accident at the exact same time when they had been doing the exact same thing, but what they perceive from the accident can be two completely different things. It's how the world works.

Harry looked around the bed, noticing the curtains were around him. He tried to move, his limbs weak from the lack of use. He could barely move, but as soon as he managed to move his arm up, the curtains opened and smiling down on him was the nurse.

"Good morning, Harry. I believe this is the first time you've woken up in the actual morning. How are you feeling?"

Harry mustered his energy up, attempting to speak. "Sore. Weak." His voice was raspy, hunger and thirst rolling through him. "Hungry, thirsty," he added.

The matron—_Madam...umm...P...Pom...Pomfrey! That's right. Right. Tall silver-bearded one is Dum...bledore...yes, and there's the creepy one, Snake or something, I don't remember the other lady, and...and...those two...umm...tall, red hair, lots of freckles... What was his name? Leon? No...Ron? Yeah, Ron. Oh crap, the girl...He...He...Herm...Hermione I think...Yes, yes, that's it. Dumbledore, Pomfrey, whoever, whoever, Ron and Hermione. _

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "That's to be expected. I'll get some food, and here's some water. After you eat, hopefully you'll have enough energy to attempt to move. I think we have a little less than three weeks to get you walking, or else you're staying here. I think you have a happier place to go to for the break, but you don't remember, do you?"

Harry drank some water eagerly, his throat feeling a little better. "I have...someplace, I think. With...with...the Weasley's." One of the fuzzy images cleared enough to display a tall house that was slightly lopsided. The memory—or picture, really—stopped, but he knew there was more.

The matron smiled once more before turning to fetch some food most likely. Harry stared at the white ceiling, wondering how long on average he slept, and how come he couldn't remember his dreams. Maybe it was part of the amnesia he had—maybe he'd remember once his full memory began to return. And...Ron and Hermione would be coming in later, hopefully to help him move. Surely this lady couldn't help him by herself. But, she was a nurse, and nurses could do amazing things.

A random line from his memories. Maybe it would come back. Soon though, he wished.

Madam Pomfrey returned, placing in front of him a small plate of two eggs, a piece of toast, and some bacon. "It doesn't seem like very much to me, but it's probably a full coarse meal to you. Eat as much as you can, even if it's three bites. You're body isn't used to having solid food in it, let alone this much. So, eat what you can and we'll start moving you. If you're up to it again later this afternoon, your friends will be able to help you walk."

Harry looked at the food, managing to reach the fork to pick up the eggs. It was hard and strenuous, but he succeeded. He managed to eat most of the eggs, and half of the toast and bacon. He did feel a little more awake afterwards, but also exhausted from having to move his arm that much after a month of no use. Madam Pomfrey was smiling happily at him though. "Good job. You ate a lot more than I thought you would, but you also showed that you could at least eat on your own, which is still moving. Are you ready to get out of that bed and attempt standing?" He nodded, collecting his breath as the medi-witch vanished his plate and tray. "Okay, here we go."

She held out her arm to him, which he grasped the best he could. She helped him shift his body to the side, and he pushed himself slowly off of the bed. His legs were weak, but he could move them. Madam Pomfrey basically held him up as he stood, worry through her face. Harry wondered if he weighed really light to her. To him, he weighed two tons. The nurse slowly released her hold, Harry finally standing mostly on his own, only using the nurse as balance.

"I'm...standing."

"You are, with me as a balance. Would you like to take a step?"

"One sec."

He slowly calmed down his breathing down, his legs slightly numb and stinging with the sudden blood flow. He finally nodded, sliding one foot across the floor a couple of inches, the other soon moving to meet its partner. It was slow going, but he was moving! Madam Pomfrey helped him, and managed to catch him when he fell.

"Sorry...bit tired now," he said, looking back and seeing he was a little far from his bed. "Sorry. Can you wake me up with Ron and Hermione get here? I can practice a bit more, and eat...don't mean to be such a burden..."

He slipped off, leaning against the nurse as a baby in his mum's arm would do. She placed him back in his bed, sighing. "You are not a burden, Harry...just troubled. No one should ever have to deal with this sort of strain, let alone a sixteen-year old boy..."

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

He was walking through a field of tall grass, the light blue sky high above. Barely a cloud was in sight, and bird's fluttered and twittered in the sky. He came upon a hill, the grass becoming neater. On top of the hill was a girl with long dark brown, almost black hair. She was wearing a maroon shirt, with tan pants. Harry sat next to her, not saying anything. Finally Cho sniffed, whispering, "Why did it have to be him?"

"Because it's Voldemort." She winced, but he ignored it. "He kills anyone and everyone. It was my fault though for getting Cedric killed, if it's anyone's. We wanted to take the cup together, but it was only meant for me. There was nothing he or I could do. It was unexpected and sudden."

Cho turned to him, her face turning a dark red. Harry didn't know if she was about to yell at him or start crying. To simplify things, she chose both. Her eyes turned hard, tears running out of the sides. "And you left! You didn't stay and fight! You grabbed his body and came back. You—"

"You don't know what happened, so I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you. He told me to come back. His ghost came out of Voldemort's wand and told me what to do. You don't know what it's like having the Dark Lord in your head. You don't know the pain I had to go through, dealing with the visions and his emotions. You may have loved Cedric, but _life will go on. _Apparently not for Cedric or anyone else who was killed by Voldemort, _but I will avenge them. _It means more to me than you can ever imagine. So, don't go around saying how you know what's going on, what has happened, _because you do not."_

Cho looked at him, tears still coursing down her face. "You really are the Golden Boy—Everything must revolve around you. 'Oh look at me, I'm Harry Potter, and if you don't bow to me, then the Dark Lord's going to kill all of you!' That's not a positive way to gather followers." Cho's voice was now shrill, face bright red, eyes wide and almost wild looking, tears occasionally slipping out.

Harry sat there, stunned, finally getting out, "Cho...that, that's not true. I never asked for any of this. That's your biased view, as well as everyone else. I'm not like that at all. I thought you were one of the few who liked me for who I really was. I suppose only Ron and Hermione, maybe Ginny, know who I really am. I'm disappointed in you Cho."

Cho stared at him, surprised that he turned on her. Before he knew it, she slapped him, the force causing him to fall over. "You lie!" she screamed, renewed tears running again. "You killed Cedric! You're the on the dark side. I know it! You don't care about any of us!"

She was beating on his chest, Harry's new worry being to try to calm her down. "Cho! No, it's not like that, I swear. I don't know where you're getting these thoughts, but they're not real! I swear I'm on the good side. I'm the good guy, the one who's supposed to defeat the Dark Lord. What will it take to get this through your head?"

"Your death."

She stopped beating on him, and began to pull out her wand. _No, this can't be happening... No way. _Harry sat up and pushed her off of him, standing up and pulling out his own wand. "Cho, I'm not going to allow you to curse me. As much as it hurts me, I'd rather you continue to think those horrid thoughts of me, instead of curse me or even kill me and be pleased with yourself. _Stupefy."_

Cho fell back onto the ground, unconscious. Harry looked around, wondering how he could get the girl to a safe place. When he looked back to wear Cho should be, he was instead looking at another man, Voldemort himself. He was lying on the ground, his arms propping him up from behind, legs crossed at the ankles. The cold red eyes looked at Harry, black hair from Tom's teenage years making appear younger. He was wearing a maroon long sleeved shirt, buttoned up the front, and tan pants, loose on his thin figure.

"Harry Potter. How nice to finally catch up to you." Voldemort stood with ease, his features stuck between his teenage and present-day self.

Harry took a couple of steps back, unknowing of what to do. "What do you mean?"

"You've been entering yourself into the areas I have been in, and finding out my plans. You have done it again, only showed up in a memory I created for you. It worked quite well, don't you think? Now, how are you? Your physical body, I mean. How is that doing?"

"It's fine. Healing. What are you trying to get to?"

"Nothing. What's wrong with trying to have a little chat between friend and friend?"

"I don't know who you're calling friends, but it's not you and me."

Voldemort grinned, his face seeming to become darker. "Sure we are. You considered me your friend when I was in your mind. You told me things, and I helped you out. You only flipped out when you found out it was _me_. If it was anyone else, you probably would have been okay with it. You trusted me, too, don't forget. Almost more than your own friends who you have known for the last six years. Funny, really."

Harry glared at him, seeing the truth. "So you see Harry," Voldemort continued when he saw Harry wasn't going to answer, "We really are friends. Almost brothers. And you know it, too."

Harry did know it; he just didn't want to admit it. It crushed him inside, knowing there was more trust than his enemy than in his friends. "You used me though. You lied and tried to benefit yourself from my thoughts and actions."

"And it worked. I've found out a lot more information that my spy could ever tell me. I thank you, Mr. Potter."

Harry shivered. He looked around, seeing different scenery. The grass was dried and dead, upturned dirt in various places. A wind blew the smell of decay towards them, along with smoke and blood. "You will be my slave, Potter, and I will love seeing your broken mind every minute of every day for the rest of your life. Prepare yourself. You better heal soon, and get ready; otherwise you are going to be in for a surprise..."

Harry saw the familiar black portal that took him to his body. Only, he didn't want to leave since he knew he would end up forgetting everything. _What's Voldemort trying to threaten me with now? He can't do anything to me while I'm under Dumbledore's eyes. It's not going to happen._

Harry glared at Voldemort before taking off to his right, heading towards the portal. Behind him, the Dark Lord said, "You've been warned Potter. Beware!"

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

"Mr. Potter, your friends are here. Would you like to try to walk?"

Harry groaned, wanting to continue to rest, even though he had a flutter of fear throughout him. He wrenched his eyes open, barely seeing his friends above him, along with the nurse. His glasses were placed over his eyes, clearing things up. He swallowed and nodded, still tired.

"Well, let me get you some food so you can have some energy." The matron disappeared, Ron and Hermione looking down on him, smiling.

"How are you, mate? Remember anything?" Ron asked, Hermione glaring at the redhead.

"I'm fine...well, I've probably been better. I'm healing. Are we going to your house for Christmas this year?"

Ron beamed, Hermione now grinning as well. "Yeah, I believe so. You remember that much?"

"Yeah, sorta. It's beginning to come back to me and I think I begin taking my potions today."

The two nodded, Madam Pomfrey returning with a plate of spaghetti and bread. "This should be easier to eat, and it'll give you a fair amount of energy for the time being. You'll probably have these meals for the next couple of days since they're light, and once your body is used to the food, I'll begin giving you different things."

"Do you need help eating, Harry?" Hermione asked, looking uncertain.

"I think I can get it. After so much though, I get tired."

He ate, the two looking poignant almost, at how hard it was for him to lift a forkful to his mouth. The bread was a little easier since he could use both hands, but by the time he was full, he was panting. Madam Pomfrey vanished the plate and remaining food away and allowed to catch his breath. When his heartbeat was close to normal he nodded, wanting to move and walk. He was helped in shifting his position, Ron and Hermione eager now to help. It was a little easier to stand and he managed to shuffle across the room better than before. His muscles felt strained though, and when he was turning around, he fell, the bed looking farther away then he thought.

"Harry!" Ron and Hermione almost yelled, catching him.

"I'm...kinda far..." he said, catching his breath.

"You've taken twenty-two steps though. I couldn't be happier, Mr. Potter. Apparently you're healing much better than I thought. Soon you'll be on your own," Madam Pomfrey said, her voice cheerful. "Can you make it back to your bed?"

Harry looked at it, breathing hard, feeling like the ground was trying to pull him down. "I...can try. One sec..."

He slowly caught his breath, before nodded and making his way over to his bed, holding onto Ron and Hermione for balance. He collapsed a little over halfway back, Ron and Hermione carrying him back. They set him on his bed, Harry already beginning to drift off. "Thanks," he mumbled before someone shook him.

"Wait a few more minutes, Mr. Potter. I'll grab your potions to help you heal."

Harry groaned, Hermione saying, "You're doing really well, Harry. I don't know what you're going to do about your classes though."

"I'll study over break. You two can help me out, right?" Harry opened his eyes, wondering what they'd say.

"Of course!" Ron said, smiling. "And I'm sure the Professor's will allow you to turn in the work."

"And I'm sure you'll have to relearn the things from earlier in the semester...that You-Know-Who learned," Hermione continued.

_You-Know-Who? No, I don't know who... _"So I'm what, two and a half month s or so behind? I'll catch up. I have you two to help me out, like in the past when I had Quidditch practice and stuff."

Ron and Hermione laughed, large grins on their faces. "So glad you're beginning to remember, Harry!" Hermione said, Ron smiling as well.

Madam Pomfrey returned, holding four potions. They all had different sized bottles, but the colors were similar. Hermione and Ron moved to the side, giving the nurse space. "Okay, these darker potions are to help your body heal. Most of the holes seem to be healing already with help from your magic." Madam Pomfrey held the darker potions up, showing the larger bottles. "These lighter potions, they're to help with your memory. It may take a day for the potion to kick in though. These two bottles are smaller because I want to help your memory come back a little bit at a time. A large blast could send you into a coma. These all might taste a little soury. So, drink up."

She handed one of the lighter ones to him, and he slowly took it, hands shaking almost uncontrollably. With help from Hermione he drank it, the taste more bitter than sour. The second light colored one was the same, but the larger dark colored two were sour. He almost spit them out, but Madam Pomfrey wasn't going to allow it. She covered his mouth with a hand, glaring at him. "You spit that out and you will regret it."

He swallowed, barely, and drank the second as fast as he could. As soon as he was done though and the bottle was taken from his mouth, he began falling asleep. "We'll be back tomorrow Harry," Hermione said.

"Sleep well mate. Heal fast,' Ron said.

Harry gave what he hoped was a nod and fell asleep, happy. He felt a tingling throughout his bones and muscles, slowly spreading around the rest of his body. Then the deep black came and swept him away.

* * *

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OMG YAY CH 19 IS FINALLY HERE!!!!!!!!!!!! wow, i'm so sorry for the late update. i've just been really busy, and working all week long and yeah...sorta getting my ass kicked. and i have about 5 million projects due this week for school, so i'm slammed...barely anytime to write, so blah, i'm catching up to my chapters in this story...i'll be breaking 20 in the next chapter...damn. yay though. but i still have ideas for this story, so i'll try to write as long as i can. And i'm fixing the earlier chapters...i think i got one and two done...hehe. so that'll be nice. Yeah. i'll try to post though next as soon as i can!! and thank you to all who review. So...if you review, i will respond hehehe, so yeah... hmmm...next chapter...dont remember...hehe. Until next time! 


	20. Bloody Fears

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The next week swept by, Harry either walking or sleeping. He attempted to read his text books, only he ended up falling asleep. He was walking easier, and began to remember. He thought he could remember mostly up to the age of seven, and most of his fifth year, the summer, and the beginning of this school year. Madam Pomfrey was ecstatic about his memory recover as well as Dumbledore, and Ron and Hermione wanted him to come back to the tower.

"I think it'd be better if I stayed here though," Harry said one afternoon before a walking session. "After break I'll have no choice, but as for now, I think everyone still needs to calm down. I don't know exactly what I did, but I figure you can tell me. And... Maybe Ginny will talk to me." Harry told Ron and Hermione.

"She's going to have to, on account you're coming to stay with us. Once she sees it's the old, normal you, she'll be better. And she'll accept your apology. She did when I told her, even though she was a little doubtful." Ron sat on the edge of the bed, Hermione next to him. Harry thought something was going on between them, but he wasn't quite sure yet.

"So, you ready to walk?" Hermione asked, looking eager. Harry couldn't tell who was more proud of him walking: Hermione or Madam Pomfrey. Harry grinned and nodded, pushing himself out of the bed. Another thing he had to build next was his upper body strength. He stood on the floor, now Ron and Hermione only next to him. Madam Pomfrey was there, but she stood off to the side, watching how he moved.

He made one trip around the room, and half of another trip before he was holding Ron, then Hermione. On the third round he collapsed, but only needed a short rest. After that he was able to make another round and a half, then back to the bed. He felt strained again, and he hadn't been able to go much further than that the past two days. He had been going farther every time he walked, but lately, there hadn't been much improvement. He sat on his bed, breathing hard, tired. Madam Pomfrey came over, looking thoughtful. "In general, you look fine. I don't really understand why your body quits on you. I think it might be because of the potions... When you leave for the break, you won't be on anything so your body can finish healing on its own. I'll' send some things with you just in case though. We'll discuss it more later on when the break comes closer."

Harry nodded, his breathing beginning to return to normal. He was fighting off the urge to sleep; the exhaustion always brought sleep with it, and it was hard to fight it off. Madam Pomfrey brought food over, Harry smiling. Food helped keep him awake, even if he had a hard time eating a lot still. What he considered a lot though was half of what Hermione normally ate and barely a snack for Ron. Harry had just began to eat solid/hard food like meat, but Madam Pomfrey kept it very limited. He still had mostly spaghetti in the afternoon, but he liked to "try" new things.

The rest of the afternoon floated away, Harry sad when he began to fall asleep and the two friends had to leave. "Sorry Harry," Hermione said. "But we have to finish whatever last minute homework, and you're starting to fall asleep."

"I know. Well have fun. Only what, a week and a half more?"

Ron and Hermione grinned, soon leaving. Madam Pomfrey gave him another dose of the potions, Harry falling asleep, more relaxed than he had been for awhile.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

He was in a white room, everyone he ever cared for standing around him. The closest to him was Hermione, Ron, Neville, Luna, Sirius, Ginny and Lupin, everyone else forming a close circle behind. He wondered what was going on, why he was in the center. As he opened his mouth though, everyone past his friends fell to the ground.

A spray of blood met his line of vision as he watched an invisible line slit everyone's throats. Blood flowed out, soaking the white tile. On the walls it looked like spray paint, the droplets slowly sliding down. The seven around him still seemed unaffected, staring at him.

"Are you _aware _of the kind of problems you cause us?" Hermione asked, staring at him with dead eyes.

"You always beg for attention, always have to get yourself into dangerous positions where you should have _died,_" Ron said.

"You are only a nuisance to the entire world, not some special Golden Boy." That was Neville.

"You are a _danger_ to everyone else, including yourself," Luna exclaimed.

"You play with us like we're your own little chess set, moving us how you think we should move, and how we should die." That was Ginny.

"You are done being the Golden Boy, Harry. I'm sorry, but you're too dangerous...and cocky." That was Lupin, having sad, dead eyes.

"Sorry kiddo. It's true though. You're through. We can handle everything on our own." Sirius shook his head, as they all raised their wands. "This level of pain will probably kill you, which is really what you deserve."

"_Crucio."_

The pain was blinding. It shot up and down him, like he had been flattened by a two ton brick. He felt his limbs rip, his muscles melt. His heart was going to explode and his lungs felt like they were shriveling. He tried to move, but every twitch broke or ripped something. He wasn't screaming either, really. His vocal chords had been shredded and blood was pooling in his throat, as well as anywhere else it could.

He was dying...dying...and then he fell into a black hole where his body seemed to be mended. He was dumped out in the middle of a village, the night sky bright overhead.

He looked around the peaceful setting, shaky, wondering what was going to happen. He stood up, listening to the crickets chirp, owls hoot, and the wind brush the leaves of any surrounding trees. It was definitely too calm. Harry walked around, each house dark with the sleeping occupants. It was a small town but he ran across a couple of houses that had the feel of magic around it. Once he reached what he guessed was the edge of the village, he turned around, trying to find the purpose of why he was there. The hole didn't grab him from nightmares and drop him in random spots because it simply felt like it. No... There was always some sort of reason.

After he returned to his spot where he arrived, he noticed a sound that didn't seem to belong. The crickets quieted down, and there seemed to be creaking, cracking, and snapping sounds, coming from the south. Harry slowly went that way, the sounds becoming louder and more disorganized. Then he saw it. The bones from the graveyard were walking in his direction towards the town, each lank skeleton having some sort of reddish glow in the eye sockets, the bodies looking more pulled together.

Harry shuddered and stepped back, the smell reaching him. Dirt, rotted skin and body parts, and if evil had a smell, it'd be there too. The skeletons reached the edge of the town and separated, all heading towards a house. Harry didn't know what to do. He ran in between two houses, afraid of what would happen if he was seen. He tried to calm his heart down, reason out his thoughts. He needed something to stop the bones without having all of them turn on him, while not being seen by a muggle. He thought it was sort of selfish, but he did want to get out alive, along with anyone he could bring. Well, more like save.

Harry wondered if fire worked and racked his brain searching to see if Hermione or Flitwick had ever mentioned a spell. _Yes! Fourth year, during the Triwizard Tournament. _Only, it had never worked for him, or at that part in time, so he had forgotten about it. _I think it's Inferre...? Yeah...it is._

Harry took a deep breath and ran out into the streets, but noticed most of the bones were gone, front doors of houses open. In seconds, screams filled the air, growing louder and louder, soon a deafening noise of voices reaching throughout the air. Harry ran into the closest house, following the screams. He found a room where the parents were already dead in their bed, throats ripped out, blood pooling and overflowing down the necks. A daughter and son were in the corner, the brother trying to protect his younger sister. "No!" Harry yelled, throwing a shoe that was next to him at the skeleton.

It shifted as its head was hit, and slowly turned towards him. The kids still weren't moving, and Harrying didn't want to move them quite yet. The skeleton was too close. "Oi! Bones! Why not eat someone your own size? And I'm a special treat. Come over if you want to find out what."

He thought the bones could sense, no, _feel_ his magic, for it stumbled towards him, the kids screaming. "Get out, now! Leave the town for the night and hide. Come back in the daylight if you can, but go! Don't run into other bones." The kids weren't moving, which agitated Harry. He dodged the skeleton as it swiped a hand at him and looked back over at the kids. He didn't want to use magic in front of them. "Go now, before I throw something to get you moving."

Finally, the two stood up, slowly, and the boy grabbed his sister and raced out of the room before the skeleton could notice them and chase after. Harry sighed mentally as he turned back to the bones. The boy had to be no more than eight, his sister at least four or five. When he was sure they were out of the house, he backed towards the room door, pulling out his wand. "_Inferre_!" he yelled, fire coming out of his wand and hitting the bones. He stopped the spell when the wall behind the skeleton started on fire, and when the now burned body came after him, fire was still climbing over the body. "Oh shit," he muttered, turning around and running out of the house.

The bones started to follow him, but stopped and decided to return to the meal that wasn't moving. Harry ran out onto the streets, bloodied people who were able to get away now out on the streets. There were sobs of loss and pain, as well as screams of horror. Harry tried to help as many people out as he could, but didn't get very far when more and more people showed up from other houses. He tried to get everyone moving, but no one was willing to listen. So, he stood in the middle of the street full of unbelieving and delirious people, helping out those who let him.

When he managed to patch up quite a few people and convince others to leave, the skeletons came out of the houses, blood soaking the once sun bleached bones. Once everyone comprehended this, renewed screams were in the air, everyone scrambling to get away. Some bones began to chase people, but stopped shortly. Harry was about to leave, except the sight that was occurring in front of him held his attention.

The blood that was on the bones began to clump over the body, all of the bodies shimmering oddly. Along the tendons and bones, nerves began to form along with veins. The veins were connected to each other where the heart would be, and even then there seemed to be something of an outline of a heart on some of the bodies. They all began to move again after a couple of minutes, testing out the new items their bodies had created. They realized also that Harry was there, quite alone, and quite full of magic and life. They came at him, Harry running now, and hearing the cracks of the movement behind him. He was looking for the portal-thing that took him back, knowing it had to be there. He barely caught it at the entrance of the alleyway he had gone into earlier, the black looking like a door. He ran through it, getting clawed across his back. Pain ripped through his back, the marks seeming deep. He was happy though that he hadn't been caught. He sighed in relief as the black swirled around him.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

The first thing he was aware of was the pain blossoming in his back. The second thing was the calling of his name. The third was that he could remember the visions he had. He opened his eyes, reaching over for his glasses. Everything slid into focus, Harry seeing Madam Pomfrey, Professor Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione around his bed. He realized he was breathing hard, his heart was racing, and he was sweating, yet he was freezing on the inside. Shaky, he looked at the headmaster, who was the first to speak. "How are you feeling, Mr. Potter?"

"Cold...no, hot...shaky. What happened?"

Dumbledore looked at Madam Pomfrey, who just nodded. "In every strong wizard, or most, there is a moment in their life where their magic decides to expand, or mature," Professor Dumbledore seemed to grimace with the word. "As much as I don't care to use that word, there is a moment in their life where their magic decides to grow without killing the person. It looks for sort of a release, and usually its through activities like a magic class, but since you're not doing much activity, your outlet would be your dreams.

"But, your body isn't quite capable of the maturing of your power, since you only receive the...dreams once in awhile. My power though fights yours, which draws it away from hurting your body."

"Okay...and when will all of this end?" Harry struggled to keep up with what the Headmaster was telling him.

"It's differs for every witch or wizard, and how much the power grows. You, I think, will have your moment within another week, judging by how often your power rises, and how strong it is."

"Did my parents ever have this?" Harry asked, slightly embarrassed and nervous.

"Your mother no, but your father yes. Lily was a strong witch nonetheless, and your father was from a long line of excellent wizards. So, with the two power lines in you, you were bound to have your...maturing, sooner or later."

"Will we ever have one?" Ron asked, pointing to him and Hermione, while the girl was also looking at Dumbledore, though more curious than Ron was.

"Yes, I'm almost positive you both will receive yours, though I'm not quite sure when. It could be in two days, over the summer, or in five years. Don't get spoiled about it though. It's one of the things that can make another wizard envious of you."

"So not a lot of people receive it?" Harry asked.

"No, and how it comes is different for everyone. I received mine when I was twenty-one, Tom Riddle was seventeen, you are sixteen, and Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape were both twenty-six, I believe. I think they are the only staff members in our school to ever reach their maturing. Through the years many students have reached theirs, but none have come as violent as yours."

"What do you mean?" Harry was almost afraid of the answer.

Professor Dumbledore smiled though. "You like to rattle things and push other people's powers, almost testing them it seems. You may not realize it, but my power is wearing yours out so it'll calm down. It's an interesting concept, one worth studying." He winked at Hermione. "It's said that when you mature, that is the strongest year in your life."

Harry relaxed, feeling worn out. "Well, before I forget, I have something to share with you." He glanced at Madam Pomfrey who seemed to have gotten the point.

"Oh, all right, I'll leave. Come get me when you're done, Albus."

Madam Pomfrey walked out, and when she was in her room, Harry spoke. "I remember the visions I've been having. It seems that Voldemort is building an army of bones, or, skeletons and using them to kill people. Every so many people each skeleton kills, it gains the appearance to be a person. If the skeleton has magical powers when it is complete, it'll be rewarded, but if it's to weak or not magical at all, then they'll probably be punished. He just started using them, and he's already slaughtered one or two towns." He left out that he had been scratched, and what Voldemort had told him in their one-on-one meeting.

Dumbledore nodded, a grim look across his face. "I think I know what spell he's using. I must be off, Harry. This isn't a good thing, though I thank you for telling me, and now able to remember."

He turned around, only stopping at Madam Pomfrey's door for a couple of seconds. She nodded, then came over to the three, looking at Harry. "Would you like to try to walk while you're awake?"

He nodded, stretching a little and pushing himself off of the bed. He was about to begin walking, only stopped when he heard a small shriek from Hermione. "Harry! What's on your back?"

Harry grimaced. "Uh, I don't know."

"It looks like blood," Ron pointed out.

Madam Pomfrey came over, and made Harry take off the nightshirt he was wearing. When it was off, she lightly touched his back, Harry trying to look behind him, only unable to really see. He could feel the scratches, and they hurt. "I can take care of this, though I have no idea where they came from. Mr. Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "I honestly don't know. It hurts though."

Madam Pomfrey knew he was lying by the look she gave him. She stood and left, soon returning with a potion. "This will heal it almost right away since it's just a scratch. Large, but just a scratch. It probably hurts more than the actual damage."

Harry just nodded, and drank the potion. It tasted like grapes, and was clear. Madam Pomfrey disappeared again and returned, bringing him a new shirt. He put it on, then began walking around the room. He made it five and a half times around the room, by the end gripping Ron and Hermione's arms hard enough to numb his fingers. They helped Harry onto his bed, him shaking visibly. Madam Pomfrey brought him food when he calmed down, most of it disappearing into his stomach. Harry couldn't believe how much weight he had lost. He was barely the needed weight before, and now he was sure he was border lining anorexic.

Usually he fell asleep after he was done eating, but he was still awake, only too weak to move. "I'm glad you're approving Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey stated. "You have only roughly a week and a half left, and you're going to need a lot of help moving from this end of the building to the entrance, then down to the train. Well, here are your potions for now, and I'm hoping it will calm down your magic. It's more to calm your mind down than anything, and open passages for the other potions to work some more.

Madam Pomfrey gave him the usual four, then the other one, the color seeming to sit between an obnoxious orange and yellow. When the light hit it one way, it looked like a bright yellow, but in the shade it seemed neon orange. "This one will taste quite bitter. I have juice for you to have afterwards."

She was right. Harry noticed how Ron and Hermione sat and watched him like he was something on display. _They're only concerned. That's what friends are for._

_Yeah. Right. _

_Great. I'm arguing with myself. Only it's not with Voldemort...even though we never really argued. _

_Psycho!_

_Shut up. _

He finished the drink, taking the juice as soon as possible. It did wash down the taste, but there still seemed to be an imprint on his tongue. The room slowly turned white, or maybe he faded off; he wasn't sure. He didn't remember the sleep come with the darkness or even shutting his eyes. The room he was in though was all white. So white, so bright, he wasn't even sure if it was a room. He couldn't see the wall corners, but he thought they were there. There was no sun or night, just bright light.

Then, he felt cold. The light stayed on around him, but whatever happiness, calmness, everything was sucked away, leaving him with his worst memories. _What's going on? It's like there's a Dementor in here...but I don't see it, and the room wouldn't be so bright. _

But _something_ was there, making him feel this bad. He vividly remembered Cedric dying, Voldemort using Harry's blood, the fight of the wands... He remembered the death of Sirius, how the vale fluttered after he fell through. If he had jumped after his godfather, Sirius would have grabbed his hand and joined the fight again... More images, more pain then he ever remembered in his life, the majority of it revolving around Dudley and Voldemort.

He was on his knees, gripping his head. He wanted all of it to go away. He was only sixteen; he shouldn't be seeing or feeling things like this. Then, he noticed an array of weapons lying around him. If he could just move his hands down to the ground, he could end it all... A simple slice, shot, word... He began to move his hand, but it all stretched away, out of reach. Instead, Dudley was in front of him, towering over. "Baby," his voice boomed. "Can't even have enough desire to kill yourself. You have to want it."

"Desire?"

Dudley shifted into Vernon. "Boy! Get your lazy ass up here now! If you want to die, you're going to have to need it! Man up, you wuss."

"Need?"

His uncle shifted into Draco Malfoy, the blonde sneering down. "You're too much of a hero to see the dark stuff. You have to love the unknown to receive anything."

"Love?"

Malfoy shifted into Voldemort, the red eyes glaring down at him. Harry whimpered, scooting away. He remembered how he felt after the Dark Lord was taken out of his mind. He was still terrified, and wasn't sure how he was ever going to get over it. "Scared, Potter? You're too weak to kill yourself. You have to have courage to face death, to look it in the eye."

"Courage?" Harry breathed out.

Voldemort smirked. "Just try it. Your friends wouldn't care. Just think about it and take a look at death."

Ron was next to Voldemort, Hermione on the Dark Lord's other side. "Come on mate, it's not that bad. Just a quick slice and it's all over."

Hermione looked at Harry, pleading. "Please, Harry. Come join us. We miss you so much. When you're here with us, we can do the things that we used to."

Harry saw the blades and guns at the end of their feet, waiting to be touched. He reached a hand out, the weapons at his fingertips. He looked at his friends again, noticing their empty eyes. "Trust me," the three said, Harry cringing away. "Trust, trust, trust," Hermione and Ron chanted as Voldemort said, "It's for the best."

"No," Harry said, jumping back. "No! You're all fake! Fake! I don't believe you, you're not my friends." He tried to grab the closest thing to him to throw or shoot the enemies, but once more everything was stretched away.

"No you don't, Potter," Voldemort said, sighing. "Seize him!"

Ron and Hermione grabbed Harry, stronger than they were normally. Voldemort moved towards Harry, taller than Harry last remembered. Ron and Hermione were keeping Harry on his knees, each holding an arm behind him. Voldemort grabbed a handful of his hair, dragging the green eyes to the red. Voldemort stared into them, speaking slowly. "Potter, you are going to be mine. Someday, somehow, your services will be required by my command. Just wait. The time is drawing near."

Images filled Harry's mind, horrors and pain mixing into one. "No! Get away, go!" he screamed, trying to shake the impersonating "friends" off.

"This will come to be Potter. You will be mine."

Voldemort disappeared, Ron and Hermione letting go of him slowly. Both had an evil glare, the weapons at their feet again. "Hello, pet," Ron said, twirling a knife that he had grabbed off of the ground, Hermione searching among the guns and selecting a taser.

"You are ours for the evening and boy, are we going to have fun with you." Hermione looked up from the taser she had decided on, seeming to pet it.

"No, you're not real! You don't exist. I'm alone, alone! Go away; I don't love you at all. You're only there to save my ass when I get in trouble."

Ron and Hermione stared at him, smiling. "Well, sorry if that's how you feel. But us, we're going to have some fun since you didn't choose a method of killing yourself fast enough. And you'll be alive, too, at the end of this...hopefully."

The two came at him, Harry screaming and scrambling away. He didn't want to go through this pain again. He realized then that this was his worst fear; being abused and hurt to the brink of life and death. That, and Voldemort getting a hold of his mind again.

"Don't make this difficult, Harry," Ron called, Harry hoping he wasn't about to run into any wall.

"Just hold still. It'll be over soon." _Was that Ginny?!_

He wasn't going to look behind him though. Next he heard Hermione, who seemed to be laughing while attempting to stay calm. "Harry, please, just stop running and talk with us. We'll make it easy on you and make the pain quick and brief. If you run though, you'll only make it harder for yourself."

He didn't stop though. "You're all lying! You're not real. Go away!"

He ran until his muscles burned, until they screamed for air. Each step felt like he was being smashed in between two walls, slowly breaking him down. Finally he fell, rolled, and stopped by hitting a wall. He tried to breathe, but each breath felt like nails digging into his lungs, into each particle of his being. Ron, Hermione, and now Ginny stopped in front of him, looking down at his crumpled figure. Ron was wearing black cargo pants, a red line going down the front of each pant leg, the red thread showing brightly. His shirt was also black with long sleeves, red lines creating a V-shape on his chest, the wider lines seeming a little darker than the thinner strips. It should have clashed with his hair, but his hair seemed to become darker, closer to a maroon orange-red, if such a thing were possible.

Hermione was standing next to him, arms crossed over her chest. She was wearing a cloak, but not like a normal wizards cloak. Closer to the...large, long heavy-seeming jacket that Dudley had always made fun of on the muggles, but always secretly wanted. The clasps were silver, and the thread was a powder blue. It seemed tp be ripped and shredded along the bottom, showing off her black boots. There were two of the powder blue lines heading down the cloak's sides, and Harry could see that Hermione's pants also had the pale colored thread and rips. Her shirt though, he couldn't see.

Ginny was last in the line, hand on hips, smirking. She had something similar to Ron's outfit, only her pants were tight. They had yellow thread and a yellow line down the side rather than down the front. Her long sleeved shirt had the yellow lines in the V-shape, the wider lines appearing a tad darker than the thinner lines. She had a line down each sleeve, curling around the wrists like a snake.

All three though, had the same expression on their face. All eyes were empty, yet the faces held humor, eagerness, and darkness. Harry was now shaking all over as he saw Ron twirl the knife he had grabbed, the hilt now black with red flames, the blade dark red at the base, fading up to silver at the tip. Hermione tossed the taser from hand to hand, blue and black stripes around it. Harry distantly remembered that Dudley had always wanted one of those too, once he learned what it did. He saw Ginny pull a hammer out from behind her, the handle black with yellow lightning bolt-looking zigzags, the head white.

Harry could only shake and mutter, "You're not real, you're not real, you're not real..." over and over as the three came towards him.

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well...here's chapter 20. it's such a big number!!! I seriously thought i'd never make it this far, but my lovely readers and creative (term used VERY loosly...) mind brought me here. and i want to apologize for the late update. i've had a lot of homework/projects, news articles, lots of work, school, and marching band. omg, there's not enough time in the world...hopefully i'll do better and get an update up again sooner...but once again, there's no promises. And, i've had barely any time to write, so that's not working out very well...like, i'm catching up to whatever chapter i'm writing VERY quickly, and it's highly irritating. If i manage to catch up, there'll be like a month in between updates. Let's not have that happen...or, i'll try not to let that happen.  
so.  
yeah. just an update on my life. So. Little Harry is becoming powerful! Yay! and he's having nightmares as well a the vision-things. hehe. what's going to happen? is he going to heal soon? what about the end of the term? is voldy really going to come and get him, and make harry his pet????  
so many questions, and all will be answered...eventually. i swear. i still have my ideas for this story, so at least i can't really get writer's block. yeah. well, thanks to all of you who read and review my story!!! And what happened to all of you who used to review??? you're all slackers!!! lol. but those of you who do every chapter, i thank you for doing that. YOU make me smile, cus i can count on you. the others though...yeah.  
so. i'm SHUTTING UP!!!!!!!!!!! i swear. Until next time!!!


	21. Determined

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He was aware he was sobbing, begging for the torture to end. His words though were incoherent, mixing with the tears. His heart felt like a collar had been put around it, and tightened every time the taser was used. His clothes were in shreds from the knife, and random bones were shattered from the hammer. He blurrily saw the outline of Ron; Ginny smashed his glasses long ago. Ron touched the tip of the knife to Harry's forehead and slowly cut down, saying, "The boy's had almost enough—"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Ginny interrupted.

"If you'll allow me to finish, I believe he can be pushed further on, and I really do dislike that lightening bolt scar..."

"Continue on then, my friends," Hermione said.

The three laughed, each touching him at the same time—Hermione in the heart, Ginny smashing his right hand, Ron sticking his blade further into his forehead.

Then, it was all gone. The pain itself, though the memory of it still lingered, the wounds, the blood... It was all gone. He looked around, seeing he was in the white room, everyone he ever cared for standing around him. The closest to him was Hermione, Ron, Neville, Luna, Sirius, Ginny and Lupin, everyone else forming a close circle behind.

_What...the...hell?_ He opened his mouth to question what was going on, but everyone past the row of his friends fell to the ground, once more a spray of blood meeting his line of vision as he watched the invisible line slit everyone's throats. Blood flowed out from the bodies, seeming darker this time. The white tile was soaked, and on the walls it looked like graffiti, droplets of blood sliding down.

As Hermione opened her mouth, he asked, "What's going on? Why is this happening again?"

Everyone smiled, though no one answered. Finally, a cold voice spoke from right behind him. The voice whispered across his ears, causing Harry to flinch. "Because Harry, I want you to realize how pointless it is to try to fight me. All your loved ones will die, and you won't be able to help it."

Harry tried to jump away from the Dark Lord, but the fingers that had embraced his shoulder held him still. "You-you can't get into my mind," he said breathlessly, all of his friends dead eyes upon him.

"Ahh...until I figured out the void where I can get to you. I'm not going to say anything, but if you don't want any harm to come to you, or well, much harm to you, little harm to your friends, I'd be asking what you could do to please me."

"No. This isn't real, and none of your threats are real. My friends are alive, and they care about me. I can always count on them saving my arse, and I'll always be there for them."

There it was...his emotions. His caring, honesty and love came out, Voldemort stepping back automatically. "We'll have to do something about those emotions. Until then, remember this pain as you go back to your crumbling body."

As Voldemort disappeared, Harry felt his body breaking again under the pain Ron, Hermione and Ginny had given him. He heard, "There he goes again. He's so weak." That was Ginny.

"He'd never survive a day in the training we had to go through." That was Ron.

"You're so full of yourself. It wasn't training. It was a blast of pain to see who could survive and who would die." Ginny again.

"We made it though, that's what counts. This weakling though wouldn't. How were we ever his friends? How did we ever believe he would be our savior?" Hermione that time.

He was shocked by his friends words, but his shoulder muscles tightened as he convulsed, choking on his screams, tears, and vomit. The latter, he managed to control and push down, but the screaming and tears only accelerated.

"Agreed to that," Ginny said, Ron saying, "He makes me laugh."

More pain, more laughter in his ears, more consciousness...

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"Albus! We have to do it! If we don't, the boy will _die._ Do you not understand that?"

"I understand it well Poppy. You don't need to doubt me."

"It's hard not to sometimes..."

"The potion has a chance of killing his powers as well as him."

"His powers are killing him _as we speak._ One way or another, he could die. Unless you have a different option of releasing his powers that wouldn't kill him, we must give him the potion."

Professor Dumbledore looked at Madam Pomfrey, then back to the boy who was fighting against the restraints. Harry's eyes fluttered, and he had stopped screaming...for the time being. He could feel the boy's powers heightening, but there was not much he could do without harming the boy or the growing of his powers. Madam Pomfrey had called him in after the first time Harry's heart had stopped, and through the four hours his heart had stopped three other times. It was easy, luckily, to get the muscle working, but the hard part was having it continue beating. _There has to be another way of having his powers released while he's unconscious...think..._

"We need him awake," he said simply.

"And how are you going to manage that?"

"We need him conscious just enough so he can cast a fairly powerful spell or ever point his want at something, to release the power."

Madam Pomfrey stared at him. "Do you know how to do that?"

"I think I can. Stand back." He walked over to Harry, lifting the shaking boy up. He was hot, sweat covering almost every inch of his skin. The power through flowed over Dumbledore, wanting something to fight against. "Harry, Harry, wake up." It was a try, but nothing had happened. He took his wand, and pointed it at the boy's head, saying, "_Corpus Resurrectio." _He tried to limit his magic to a small flow, but with Harry's powers still fighting against his, it wasn't very hard.

Harry "woke" up, his body still shaking, his eyes having a dead look in them. Dumbledore didn't know how long the spell would last. "Harry," he said calmly, the boy looking at him, seeming the recognize the name. "I need you to release your power before it kills you. Take your wand out and say, _stupefy."_

He handed Harry his own wand, the boy mumbling _"Stupefy."_ A blast of red light crashed into the wall in front of them, Madam Pomfrey letting out a squeal before hiding from the flying stone. Dumbledore noticed how the boy's magic had diminished. One more spell should do the work, but he didn't need to blast another hole in the wall.

"That was good Harry. Now try _Repairo."_

A green light shot out, hitting the broken wall, cracks disappearing, every grain of dust disappearing back into the wall. Harry fainted, Dumbledore's spell breaking. Madam Pomfrey looked at him, awed. "What spell did you put on him?"

"It's only a temporary spell that puts his body into my command. I don't use it a lot though, since it's a dark spell that shouldn't exist anymore."

Madam Pomfrey slowly nodded, not saying anything. She looked at Harry, raised her wand, and scanned him. A wisp of smoke floated out of her wand, forming numbers and letters. Dumbledore stayed silent, until she said, "Well, he seems almost perfect, now that his extra magic is out of his system. His health...is rather extraordinary for how badly he was injured, and his body seems to be ninety percent in shape... I think it'll never be a hundred percent, but ninety-three or above is good condition."

Dumbledore nodded. "Since winter break is right around the corner, do you see fit for him staying at the Weasley's?"

"Yes, I do. You're the headmaster; you give the permission. I think a change of scenery will help him."

Dumbledore nodded. "Excellent. That is what I wanted to hear."

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He felt groggy, but awake. Alive. He could feel the soft sheets on him, the mattress that fit him well, the pillows propped perfectly underneath his head. His scar was still throbbing, but it was at a constant level that he could ignore. He wanted to wake up, see what was around him, but he didn't care to see those who had caused him so much pain. He loved his friends, he really did, and even though that vision/dream/whatever wasn't real, he still couldn't shake it off and be fine. It had caused confusion in his mind for why Ron, Ginny, and Hermione would do such a thing, and he couldn't help but think that those thoughts and feelings might be true.

He heard voices, seeming muffled. It sounded like they were coming from across the room, trying to keep silent. Harry opened his eyes, blinking slow and stupidly. His vision though couldn't reach that far; he couldn't even make out the shapes. The voices stopped shortly though when he attempted to grab his glasses. He missed and brushed them onto the ground accidentally.

"Harry!" two voices called, soon footsteps and figures coming towards him.

His glasses were placed over his eyes by Hermione, Ron next to her, and... _Ginny?_ next to Ron. She didn't look as scared as she once had, but some of it was still there. "Hiya Harry," she said, sounding a little nervous.

His heart began to race, and he felt hot. He saw Madam Pomfrey approach, which saved him from responding. "You are one lucky man, Harry Potter. Your magic almost killed you the other night."

"Technically it did kill him a couple of time, Poppy," a voice said from the doorway and walking closer.

Harry saw Professor Dumbledore walking towards the group, hands tucked in the opposite sleeve. His silver beard gleamed, and he looked more worn out than normal. "I do hate to take the credit for it, but if it weren't for me knowing how to release your powers, you would most likely be dead right now."

Madam Pomfrey nodded, Harry becoming slightly scared. "My, my powers killed me?"

"Sadly, yes my boy, but it was easy to get your heart to begin beating again. I believe though that Madam Pomfrey has some important information for you."

Professor Dumbledore nodded to the nurse who looked at Harry, features grim, yet a smile graced her face. "I believe Mr. Potter that you are allowed to travel to the Weasley's for winter break. Your powers, in killing you also were healing you. You body is ninety percent healed, and that's excellent when ninety-three and above is proper health. Who knows, ninety percent may be where you'll stay at, but I think you can heal a little more.

"A change in scenery and a breath of fresh air should hopefully heal you, as well as calm your powers down. Its one week until break. Do you wish to stay here, or head to your dorms?"

"I'm really allowed to leave?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded, Harry then looking at Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. The last dream/vision-thing did give him second thoughts. Everyone... Could he look at everyone and meet their eyes? Will anyone meet his eyes? He should try to come to terms with everyone before term ended, so he would know what to expect when he came back. But, he also wanted to give everyone as much time as possible to enjoy him not being there. "I'll stay here for now, and maybe return to the dorms two days before term ends. Is that okay?"

Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore nodded, Dumbledore saying, "And if I'm correct, your powers will become final in three or four days. That then gives you a day or two to recover, and then you can head back to your dorms."

Harry nodded, wondering what his magic would do when it matured. As much as he wanted to ask, he restrained himself. _It's probably different for everyone. I wonder what it'll be like for me._

Professor Dumbledore smiled and left, Hermione and Ron coming over to his side completely. Hermione sat on the edge of his bed, but his eyes were on the young redhead. "Ginny," he began, having a hard time meeting her eyes. "I, I'm sorry. About whatever I did to you, and to everyone else. Sorry I was being such a prat."

He looked down from the murky brown pools, and stared at his hands, the _I must not tell lies _standing out clearly. Then, Ginny was hugging him. "Thank you, Harry. I knew the real you was in there the entire time, but I didn't know how to help. Every time the imposter came near me, all these bad memories came. But, now you're finally you!"

Ron and Hermione smiled, Harry speechless. "Well," Hermione said, "kind of on a different subject, even though I'm really happy you two are friends, I found something that you might like to know Harry. I researched the growing of your powers." Harry looked at her, not that surprised. After a moment, she continued. "I read that the growing of your powers and the day of completing the growth is one of the greatest, yet worst moment in ones life. The book said that the stronger wizards end up in something relative to pain, yet it's so sweet they want more despite how much they're hurting.

"A few have ended up in comas, and others have scars. Most though come out fine, just exhausted mentally though their body is full of energy. The longest record of an energy spur was set by Sebastian Kerjean in 1932. He ran around Europe, healing and exploding things. He lasted five days without sleep, and once he crashed, he slept for two and a half days."

"So, what'll happen exactly?"

Hermione looked at her hands, probably thinking of how to sum up the passage. "You'll most likely glow—"

"Glow?" Ron interrupted, voice sounding curious yet trying not to laugh.

"Yes, glow. Only the really powerful ones will actually glow, and their power stays six months longer and stronger than anyone else's. They glow the color of their power, which shows what type it is. I think the warm colors are battling powers, and the cool colors are more of the studying, brown and tan are more healing, and white, gray, and black are the very strongest. They have a combination of all the powers, and I think the white is the least common received one. There have been two black cases, three gray cases, and one white case in the past four hundred and thirty-eight years. My guess is that you will be either gray or red."

Harry nodded, figuring Hermione would probably be gray or the cool colors, and Ron will be a shade of the warm colors. "We'll see. And it's painful?"

"Yes. The darker the colors, the more painful it will be. Just beware. If your color is close to black, the power gives you tests to prove what color you really got."

Ron and Ginny looked at her, then back at Harry who shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to move and get everyone's eyes of him. "Thats...great. Thanks for finding it and telling me. Um...can we walk? I wanna move around."

Everyone nodded as Hermione and Ron took their places, Ginny sitting on the bed and watching. Harry made seven trips around the room before he gripped the two, then at the eleventh round he collapsed. He caught his breath as Ron and Hermione held him, looking concerned. "I'm fine," he breathed. "Let's go."

He managed to push another two times around the room, barely conscious as he went back to his bed. Ginny was staring at him as he was basically laid on the bed, obviously unknowing of the condition he was in. Hermione was grinning though despite how he felt. "Thirteen times! Harry, that's amazing! That, I think is definitely enough to get to the train. Oh I'm so excited to get you out of here."

"I don't think I can go to the tower though without having my head bit off," he mumbled, beginning to wake up again. He didn't want to go back to sleep. Not this soon. Not after...that. He opened his eyes, looking at everyone. "What...what did I do to everyone?"

Everyone stayed silent, Hermione saying, "Maybe we should discuss this when you're more awake..."

"No. I'm awake now. What did I do?"

Everyone looked at each other, Ron deciding to answer. "Well, to sum things up, you were a bastard who enjoyed bringing others down. At first, it was slow, so it didn't look like you had two sides, or randomly decided to be mean and hate everyone. You first started on Neville, Seamus, and Dean, since they were our roommates. They began ignoring you, so then you started on the other girls, like Lavender and them. Then you just became an even bigger asshole and picked on all of the younger years and basically made them frightened of you.

"One of the biggest things that got to everyone was when you started befriending the Slytherin's. That, I think, everyone hated the most. My guess is that everyone believes you've changed sides. I don't think all the apologies in the world are going to save you and bring back the trust that you once had. Even the other houses—well, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff—are at a dislike for you. Once you disappeared, or, more so, came to the hospital wing, rumours went around that you had finally left to go unite with...Him. Most people believe that, but word has gotten around that you're in here, but nobody really believes it."

Harry was glad Ron didn't give specifics on what he told everyone. Hermione probably would have, which showed the simple difference between guys and girls. If he asked though what he did, they'd tell him. He preferred not knowing. "Thanks. So, I guess I have an idea of what to expect. But you'll be there too?" He looked at the three of them. "I don't want to imagine what they'd do if they caught me by myself."

"Harry, fellow Gryffindors don't attack fellow Gryffindors. I'd worry more about the other houses," Ron explained.

"The rest of the year will be tough, but we'll get through it. We always have before," Hermione said, looking hopeful.

"Just like fourth year..." Harry mumbled, remembering how everyone avoided him at the Triwizard Tournament. Well...it was more like the Quadwizard Tournament...until the very end... After Cedric's death, everyone had basically hated him.

"Well, not really," Ron said. "Cuz this time you definitely have me and Hermione here by your side, and we'll help you out."

"Don't forget about me," Ginny said, looking defiant. "Once they see that I'm friends with Harry again, they'll think he's all right."

"Or that I've put you under the Imperious..." Harry muttered.

They spent another hour talking, Harry often placing his mind out of the group. He was uncomfortable, like there was an itch on his mind and it was spreading throughout his body slowly. Once everyone left though, the itching went away and Madam Pomfrey still hadn't come in. He didn't even notice when she left. _Where did she go? _Harry wondered. Deciding he could walk on his own, he left his bed and went over to her office. He knocked on the door, not hearing any response. He knocked once more, waited, then turned the door handle. It was unlocked, so he slowly opened it, calling, "Madam Pomfrey?" before looking in.

Harry had never seen her office before, let along thinking what it would look like. The walls were white, with what he guessed was a pink tinge. There was a gray stripe near the ceiling, along with photos of who Harry guessed were family members and other nurses, possibly friends. There was a desk along a wall, and two cabinets. Along another wall there was a book case, every inch covered with books, and another bookcase of potions. Other than that there wasn't much else, except a spot where a bed might fit and a closet.

He shut the door, wondering where she could be. Even though he was hungry enough to want to eat, he wasn't about to go roam the school looking for the kitchen. He'd been abused and starved enough times to learn how to ignore the hunger. To entertain himself, he walked around the room a couple of times, and did a couple of pushups and crunches to figure out how weak he was. He could manage five pushups and seven crunches, which depressed him. _And I'm ninety percent healed? If this is my strength for the rest of my life... No. That's not going to happen._

He rested for a short bit before exercising again, continuing on even when he became tired. _I must go on. I'm not going to be weak. _His energy lasted longer than he expected and he finally went back to his bed when he fell down, each muscle almost impossible to lift. He stumbled over to his bed after he had stood up, and passed out once he laid down, the darkness of the night and mind covering him.

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Here's chapter 21, and i'm sorry it took so long to get out. With the lack of reviews...i sort of had a lack of motivation. I do thank those, who do review, and i apologize for not updating for awhile. I've just been really busy, and now a boyfriend has been added to my already overflowing schedule. . oh well. I wrote the other night, and got another two and a half chapters into this story, which i'm so happy about. I have a question though, that i hope can be answered:: Is there anything in the story that i can change to have people like? Is it getting boring? Anything that you want seen? I may be a couple of chapters ahead, but not very far, so it'll be okay if i alter it. And:::How many guys are on fanfic? I know there's a lot of girls, but how many guys?? i've been wondering that for awhile now...yeah.  
Next chapter i hope will come out soon, but no promises. Other characters come into the story, more bad than good. More dreams, more pain--good and bad. It'll be the end of the term!! Yay!! so yeah. thanks to **Xx.Fma-Dnangel.xX** and **bybytte** for reviewing!!! 


	22. More Power, More Nightmares

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Harry was healing, the winter break looming overhead. Harry was on constant worry because he knew he was going to "mature" soon and didn't know exactly when. Only five more days until the end of the term. He was beginning to workout whenever he was by himself, almost getting caught by students who had come in looking for the nurse. Ron and Hermione hadn't come in very often, since they were studying and taking any end of the term tests.

He had noticed his condition was improving slowly. He knew Dumbledore was going to let him go to the Weasley's, but the problem was, he couldn't remember what the family really looked like. He noticed the one problem after he was mainly healed was his memory. He could recall certain conversations but couldn't remember the faces. He couldn't recall some of his childhood, and large amounts of his second and third year were missing. Sirius though, he remembered thankfully.

Harry got out of his bed, stumbling. He often did this when he hadn't moved for a couple of hours, but he had trained himself how to not fall. As he stood up though, his head and chest began to hurt, almost as if the muscles were tightening, shriveling even. He couldn't draw a breath, his heart began to beat faster, and his mind felt like it was burning while the rest of him was freezing. _I'm...I'm dying... Why now? Why this far along, when I'm almost healed?_

His vision grew dark and his muscles tightened beyond what Harry thought was possible. His mind was spinning, yet his body felt like it was being flattened by a steamroller. He felt his magic spread throughout every limb, cell, pore; pain flaring up at every tiny movement. He wanted to yell, show the distress that he was in, but his vocal cords were constricted. He didn't even know if his mouth was open or clenched shut. Through the charring pain, he felt a tingling of pleasure, rising and battling all of the hurt.

_I'm...I'm completing my power..._ he thought, struggling to breathe. He let out a slight yell, the noise deafening in his ears as he thought he felt his body completely shut down. His vision darkened, and he thought he stopped moving completely, maybe a spasm of muscle shuddering through him. He was just there, something that was occupying space. His world became a gray, a hint of maroon edging it. He stared at it, the gray coming closer to him, soon enveloping his body.

Then, he could breathe. He felt the air rush through him, bringing back to him the essence of life. He felt the power leak out of him, creating a warmth around him. The power grew, releasing itself in short blasts that rocked his body. He thought his eyes were open, but whether open or shut all he saw was the tinged red gray. The short blasts became attacks, each one lasting longer than the one before. It went on and on, Harry feeling like his body was being torn apart inch by inch. It was painful and long enough to be doing that. Finally, the last one swept throughout him like a hurricane. He for sure yelled as a sledgehammer slammed into his head and everywhere else, finally feeling himself become completely numb.

He was falling...falling, his vision becoming black. He thought he felt a wind wrapping itself around him, making him comfortable and okay with the fact that he was falling to who knew where. Attacking the wind was a coldness, slowly making its way to Harry. The cold managed to grab him, feeling as if he fell into an underwater lake. The cold washed his breath away and left, along with the warmth. He just felt...heavy.

He came back to his body, it seemed, and couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't see. The pleasure of the magic remained behind, helping drive the pain away. A coldness was settling over him, but each heartbeat that he felt tried to drive the cold away. He came more into his body, and could move. He rolled over onto his back, able to breathe now and see what was around him. His breaths came in sharp pants, each one painful. The light was too bright around him, causing him to shut his eyes. He groaned, bringing a hand to his forehead. His scar was burning, but not like after a vision or an emotion from Voldemort. This wasn't ripping his mind apart, but doing the opposite. It seemed to be pulling it back together, the magic now flowing smoothly around him.

When he was ready, he opened his eyes, noticing his glassed had come off. "_Accio Glasses," _he muttered, soon them flying into his hand. He put them on and sat up, the floor feeling warm around him. He stood up and noticed a small crowd in front of the entrance doors to the Hospital Wing. He suddenly felt self conscious standing in his pajama pants and removing himself from the floor. Before he did his exercises, he often took his shirt off since it only made him hot and slowed his movements. And, no one was often in the room, so he thought it'd be okay. Now, he wasn't so sure. Embarrassed and wondering if his face was more or less red than he imagined, he looked at the ground, saying, "Umm...hi."

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Madam Pomfrey, Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Dumbledore all stood looking at him, a mixture of looks across the faces. Dumbledore, he noticed out of the corner of his eye, smiled. "How are you feeling?" Harry risked a glance up at the Headmaster's gentle voice.

"Harry, you have nothing to be ashamed of," Professor McGonagall said. "What just happened is something not a lot of people can achieve. Between a fourth and a third of wizards ever complete their powers, and it's very rare for them to complete their powers at such a young age."

Harry gave a weak nod. "I guess I feel fine...better than I have in a long time, I suppose." He was looking at the floor again, his voice soft.

"Harry," Professor Dumbledore said, the boy not looking up. "Do you know what color you were?"

Harry thought, remembering what Hermione said. "Red?" he guessed, chancing another look up.

"No, you were gray. At first you were red, but the gray was the strongest color in the end."

Harry wasn't enjoying too much in being the center of attention. "Oh. Okay."

"Is that all you have to say Potter?" Snape snapped, Harry glancing up again. "You are one of the most powerful wizards, and all you have to say is 'oh. Okay.' Too much self-pride. I suppose you expected to be white, or even more powerful."

"Shut up Snape," Harry said back, voice cold, momentarily forgetting about the other professors in the room. "I don't appreciate being the center of attention. It's kind of irritating and I want everyone to go away."

Snape glared at him, opening his mouth. "You watch your mouth, Potter. You may be more powerful, but I'm experienced."

"Until I learn how to control my powers. Can you sense how strong they are?" _And take a look into my mind, bastard. You may see why I don't like being the center of attention. _Harry brought up the dreams of Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, for once giving permission to let Snape look into his mind. Harry looked carefully at the teacher's face, waiting for a reaction. He saw the already pale face turn white, eyes slowly widen. Once Snape realized he was showing his reaction, he calmed down, dawning his grumpy face. _Now get out, or I'll tell Dumbledore and everyone. Don't want to lose everything after working so hard to get into the Headmaster's trust and into the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher._

He thought Snape back off, but Harry kept the picture on top as much as he didn't want to. "Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, interrupting his and Snape's glaring contest. "That is not the way to speak to a Professor."

"Don't worry about it, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore interrupted. "Now, why don't you and Severus head out? I allowed you to come and watch, and since the show is over, I suppose it's time to leave."

Professor McGonagall and Snape left, although reluctantly. Harry turned and walked back towards his bed, grabbing his shirt and putting it on before he climbed onto the bed and laid down. "What else?" he asked, feeling a little bit better since two sets of eyes had left.

Madam Pomfrey came over, scanning him with her wand. "You seem to have healed quite a lot. Ninety-five percent. I fear though it's not going to become much higher. I'm going to take you off of the potions since your magic is healing your body just fine. Unless you want otherwise, I think you'll be fine to go back to your dormitory day after tomorrow."

Harry shrugged. He didn't know if he could handle a lot of people yet. The group of seven was bad enough... "I don't know. I don't really want to see anyone quite yet. And I've grown used to being by myself. I'll hang out here. That way, I can work out and try to build my strength back up."

Madam Pomfrey nodded, Professor Dumbledore coming over. "It's good to see that you're trying to build your strength up. I want you to try to rest though. Tomorrow you'll feel sore, and not want to move. It's an aftereffect. If you want to stay here the remainder of the semester, that's all right. You will return to classes in January, and I will see you then."

Dumbledore walked off, Ron, Hermione and Ginny coming closer. Madam Pomfrey then walked off, heading towards her office. Harry tried to look for something to draw his attention towards instead of the awkward glances his friends were giving him. "Does it hurt?" Ron asked, finally breaking the silence.

Harry shrugged, still not meeting his friend's eyes. "A bit."

Soon he was being hugged and managed to not jerk away. He realized it was Hermione, so he tried to calm his sudden racing heart. "Oh Harry! You're so special! You'll be the strongest in our class. You'll be better than Malfoy."

She pulled herself away, smiling, Harry feeling awkward. "And Harry," Ginny said, voice concerned, "You better start eating, otherwise mum will throw a fit about how skinny you are. If anything, you're skinnier than over summer break."

Harry nodded, giving a weak smile. "I'm all right. There's no need to worry about me." Ginny put a hand on her hip, the other arm folded behind her, her face a playful angry. Harry froze, cautious. She looked the exact same as in his nightmares. Now she was going to pull out the hammer...

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked, noticing the sudden tension.

Ginny relaxed, looking confused. "What is it? Did I do something?" She looked around her, wondering what was going on.

Harry relaxed. "It's nothing. Just a little on edge. Don't know why. I'm a little tired. I'll see you guys later."

As much as he hated dismissing them for really anything, they nodded and turned, Harry pretending to be falling asleep as they walked out of the room. As soon as the door shut though, he got out of his bed and walked around the hospital wing, did some pushups and crunches, now reaching twenty five and forty, and then walked around a little more. When he reached his bed, he fell asleep as soon as he hit the covers.

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His friends were standing above him, leaning down on him. Harry looked around, seeing he was in the Great Hall, all of the houses lined up and watching the four. Harry saw the bloodstains covering his white shirt and pants, and felt it running down his forehead and arms. "Stop, please, please stop," he whimpered, the three grinning above him.

"He's begging again," Ron pointed out.

"We taught you not to," Ginny said.

"You're going to be punished until you learn the rules," Hermione said, dropping her trench coat to the ground, displaying the same outfit as Ginny's, only in the powder blue. Her normal bushy hair was tied back in a long ponytail, slicked down.

"No, no," Harry said, backing up as the rest of the students began laughing. Ron brought the knife down Harry's cheek, who ended up whispering, "Bring me pain, please. I haven't learned my lessen. Do your worst."

"That's a good boy," Ron whispered, mouth close to Harry's ear. "Only, it should have been louder." Ron pushed the knife deeper into Harry's cheek, reaching down to the bone before pulling the knife out. Harry couldn't yell out, otherwise he would have made the injury worse. He felt the blood run down his chin, the pain slowly becoming worse. Ron pulled away, Ginny then coming closer.

"What do you say now?" She asked, mouth centimeters from his.

"More please," he slurred out. "This is a scratch."

"That's a good boy." She leaned close, her mouth a breath away from his, and hit him with the hammer in the shoulder. He cried out, quickly closing his mouth when his cheek seared in pain. He bit his lower lip, soon biting through. He opened his mouth only when he tasted blood.

Ginny leaned closer and licked around his mouth, never touching his lips. He saw her smile and say, "I've been waiting for you to cause yourself to bleed. Your blood is wonderful."

She backed off, Hermione stepping closer. "What do you say, pet?"

"More please. I still see no blood, feel no pain..."

"That's a good pet." Hermione ran a finger lightly along the cut and felt the shoulder. "These must hurt." She grinned at the reflexive jerk whenever she put pressure on the shoulder. "Liar's must be punished."

She brought the taser out, bringing it to the inside of his thigh, close to his groin. He watched it carefully, hoping she wouldn't turn it on. Of course, his thoughts were just wishes that would never be granted. Hermione pushed a button, the electricity causing Harry to jerk uncontrollably, his nerves heating up quickly. One of his kicks brought the taser farther up his leg, causing him to yell. He fell onto his back, crying out every time his shoulder hit the ground. He thought he noticed when Hermione took the thing away, but he continued to shudder and twitch afterwards. The spot on his leg was completely numb with pain, slowly spreading throughout his legs. Harry noticed he was crying as well even though he tried not to since he knew it pleased the three, but it was hard to stop.

"You're weak," Ron said, kicking Harry in the side.

"You're useless," Hermione said, stepping on Harry's chest.

"You're the epitome of all mankind," Ginny said, crushing Harry's right wrist. "I don't know why you think you're so special."

"I'm not..." Harry muttered, head to the side. He shut his eyes as well so he didn't have to look at anyone or anything.

"Quit trying to satisfy us. You may say you're not special, but you're lying. When will you learn not to lie?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not lying. I promise."

Ron laughed. "Promises are meant to be broken, Harry. You say you'll do one thing, promise to do one thing, but you'll break the promise. You promised to save everyone. You can't. The Dark Lord will prevail, and kill or enslave mankind. You will be his pet. You're not broken yet, though. You still need some training."

"No...no more."

"See, that's point," Hermione said.

"You wouldn't be begging if you were broken," Ron said.

"Shall we continue then?" Ginny asked, pleasure in her voice.

"Yes, we shall," Ron and Hermione responded, Harry tensing for a second before yelling as the rain of blows crashed into him.

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Harry woke up, breathing hard, sweat covering every part of him. The nightmare faded, but it left him shaky, feeling weak, and sick. He was now getting those dreams after he saw any of his friends, which was almost every night. This one was more visual than the rest, and more painful. He could still feel the hits. _Ron, Ginny, and Hermione would never do that. My nightmares are just that: Nightmares. But is it showing what I'm afraid of? _Harry shook his head. _No, that can't be it. I trust them. Or, I thought I did. I can't help it, but I'm not as close to them as I once was. What changed?_

He stared at the dark ceiling, sitting up. He needed to wash himself... He felt dirty, like something was crawling over him. He walked to the end of the room, going to a random door that was near corner of the room. He opened it, heading towards the shower and tubs. There were three different tubs, and four showers. Harry headed towards the farthest, which was the shower he normally used. He set his clothes into the hamper, new clothes coming out of the bottom. He wasn't sure how it worked, because each new pair of pajamas had something different on them. The pain he had put in were blue with white stripes. This pair was green with plaid red stripes.

Harry stood in the shower, eyes closed, cold water rushing over him. Each part of the nightmare came back to him, bringing along other parts he would have easily forgotten. He was shaking, unable to stop the rush of beatings that was happening to his mind, red eyes lining the distance...

He ripped his eyes open, his vision sliding sideways as he lost his balance and fell into the wall behind him. He was breathing hard, disoriented, and on the verge of tears. He didn't know why this was happening to him, but he wanted it to stop. He continued to let the cold water rush over him as he sunk to the floor and brought up his legs tight. He was shaking, but not from the cold. It was from the undying fear.

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When Harry awoke, he didn't want to move. He felt sore, and his body didn't want to listen to him. He tried to stretch, but he was stuck curled up in the bed. _Okay, fine. I'll just go back to sleep..._

He did, and slept most of the day away, his mind calm, dreams not disturbing him for once. When he awoke, it was by an unfamiliar shuffling of feet. He opened his eyes, blinking. It was dark, and he wasn't sure how long he had slept for. He could move though, muscles still a little stiff. He saw the curtain around his bed ruffle, then saw the figure of a person next to him. Harry's heart began to race, him unknowing what to do.

"_Lumos," _someone muttered, the wand tip lighting up. Harry saw the pale face of Draco Malfoy, whose gray eyes were bright, the usual smirk on his face. "Hello Potter. Fancy seeing you here.

Harry hadn't seen the blonde for however many months, and he didn't care to see him now. "What do you want Malfoy? Are you even allowed to be walking around after dark?"

"It's only a little after midnight, so it's no big deal. I've thought that you were in here, but I wanted to wait until you were completely healed."

"What are you talking about?"

He gave a silent chuckle. "I know it was the Dark Lard that was in your head. Why do you think we started becoming friendly? But as soon as you disappeared, rumour had gone around that you ran off to Him. At first I believed it, but no word came from my sources that you were there, so I knew you had to be somewhere close by. So, are you ready to visit the Dark Lord Potter?"

"In your dreams."

Harry prepared for Malfoy to do something, but the other teen just stood there, smirking. "Oh, we'll see. You will be the Dark Lord's pet. I just wanted to let you know that. _Nox."_

Harry heard Malfoy's soft footsteps leaving, a ruffle of the fabric as he shifted the curtain away, and then the rest of the footsteps leading out of the room. Harry realized his heart was racing and he was cold.

_Potter..._

"No... No, go away!" he yelled into his pillow, holding it tight against him.

_I'm coming back... Your barriers are still strong, but they are breaking. You are safe for now. I thought I should give you that little information._

The voice, Voldemort, laughed, Harry feeling the tears begin to soak into his pillow. _No... No... _He thought, curling into a tight ball again.

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...okay, well, heres chapter 22...and yeah, voldie came back!!!! dont worry, he's not going to leave anytime soon. the next chapter isn't very nice, either. i'll try to have it out soon. it's the end of the term and harry has an interesting ride back on the train...so yeh, i love all of those who reviewed the last chapter!!! I love you!!! so yeah. i'll try to have the next chapter out soon. Hope you enjoyed this one!!! 


	23. Power of Enemies, Compassion of Friends

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_Previous, in case all ya'll forgot what happened...i'm sorry..._

Harry prepared for Malfoy to do something, but the other teen just stood there, smirking. "Oh, we'll see. You will be the Dark Lord's pet. I just wanted to let you know that. _Nox."_

Harry heard Malfoy's soft footsteps leaving, a ruffle of the fabric as he shifted the curtain away, and then the rest of the footsteps leading out of the room. Harry realized his heart was racing and he was cold.

_Potter..._

"No... No, go away!" he yelled into his pillow, holding it tight against him.

_I'm coming back... Your barriers are still strong, but they are breaking. You are safe for now. I thought I should give you that little information._

The voice, Voldemort, laughed, Harry feeling the tears begin to soak into his pillow. _No... No... _He thought, curling into a tight ball again.

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Harry was sitting on the train, leaning against a window and the back wall, seeming to keep an eye on the room. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were with him and that barely was an okay amount of people. Ron said Neville might join them, Luna possibly as well. Anyone else...most likely not. Harry was counting on a visit from Malfoy though.

Harry had been able to walk to the train just fine, and was happy he didn't have to worry about bringing his trunk down. When he got off of the train though... He was going to need help. He learned that his trunk had been in his dorm room the last couple of months, but had been locked by Dumbledore with a spell that enabled Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Harry to unlock it. Ron though had been assuring Harry that the invisibility cloak was safe.

McGonagall had unlocked his trunk before they left, or at least that's what Hermione and Ron told him. Everyone he noticed, while walking to the train, either ignored him or gave him glares strong enough to set his robes on fire. Of course, there were more glares than just being ignored.

"Harry, how are you feeling?" Hermione asked, bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

He shrugged. "Fine, I guess."

He looked out of the window, the cold seeping through to him. Ron had brought him his normal cloak, robes, pants, long sleeved shirt, and a sweatshirt. At first Harry thought it was a bit much, but it was December, and he hadn't been outside in a long time. Now, he was wishing for more layers.

The train soon began moving, heater's kicking on, Harry tensing at the movement. He could barely remember the feeling of being a train, and might as well have said he didn't know where he was going. It was slow moving since they seemed to encounter a snowstorm along the way, Luna and Neville joining them at that point. Harry managed to make eye contact with both once before looking back out of the white window. He ignored most of the conversations, until Luna decided to draw him in. "So how have you been Harry? I haven't seen you around much."

Harry felt his face grow warm as he looked at his knees. How Luna worded the question made him remember about what everyone was saying about him going to Voldemort's side. She also made him feel innocent, almost like a little kid or a long lost friend. Finally he looked at her, having a hard time meeting her eyes. "I, I've been in the hospital wing."

She tilted her head to the side. "You've been sick this whole time?"

He looked back at his knees, now sad. _Yeah, I suppose I've been sick...mentally sick, that's for sure. _He answered with, "Yeah, you can say that I suppose. I've been sick, of sorts."

Luna simply nodded. "I knew something was wrong when you became mean—"

_To say nicely, _Harry added mentally.

"—And definitely something was wrong when you disappeared. I didn't believe the rumors that went around, even when they did relate to some of the things you had told me. I trust you, Harry, the _real_ you. No imposter will ever be able to change my mind about that. I'm at your back."

Harry looked at Luna, not thinking when he asked, "You could tell?" His voice was just a breath, but the importance of the three words carried heavily.

Luna nodded and shrugged. "Yeah. You just acted and spoke different. You used bigger words, began to concentrate more on your studies, and blew off your best friends in the entire world. How nobody else could see it was really beyond me."

Harry stared at the simple blonde blue-eyed spacey girl, realizing that her person-perception was amazing. She was full of surprises, and Harry didn't know how long it'd take to figure all of them out. He met her eyes, slowly nodding, making his voice a little stronger. "Thank you Luna for believing in me while I was pissing people off, and obviously not being myself."

She nodded, Harry gazing at the rest of the car for a couple of seconds before looking back out of the window. The rest of the ride after the snowstorm was slow but smooth, the weather clearing up the further south they went. When Harry thought there was another two hours of the ride left, the door to their car opened, revealing six students, all from different houses. Harry couldn't recall any of their names, but from scarves he could see three Hufflepuffs, two Gryffindors, and one Ravenclaw. Two of the Hufflepuffs were guys, with one girl, two guys from Gryffindor, and a girl from Ravenclaw.

Harry stared at them, unknowing what to do or say. Hermione asked for him. "Can we help you?"

One of the Hufflepuffs stepped forward. "We're here to see Potter."

"There'll be no fighting in this car," Ron said instantly, tensing as if he wanted to jump onto the jump. "If you want to see, as in look at Harry, he's right there."

Ron gestured to where Harry was sitting, who just sat there trying to look small and innocent. The leader guy turned back to Ron. "Why are you on his side? Did he curse you too?" Ron shook his head, about to say no, when the leader guy spoke up again. "No need to reply. _Quickly now!"_ A flash of red met the room, Harry seeing Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna unconscious in their seats. His fears spiked as the group came into the car more.

"Not fighting in _this_ car huh?" the short leader asked while walking over to Harry. "Well, I suppose we'll have to fix that. Cormac, grab him. You too Justin."

Harry couldn't go anywhere. He was already in a corner when a bigger boy charged at him, along with the skinnier one. One hand was clasped over his mouth as he felt himself shoved onto his front and his arms were pulled back, his ankles soon meeting his wrists. He thought he heard the leader telling the two girls to arrange the bodies so it looked like everyone was sleeping.

The leader came over, waving his wand. Harry's arms and legs became stuck where they were though he couldn't feel any rope holding them. When the two guys—Cormac and Justin—carried Harry out of the car, the other Gryffindor and the girls placed spells around the compartment and then they began the trip to the other compartment.

When Harry was dropped, they had managed to remain unseen, even though they had only gone three or four compartments down. Finally he was released from the invisible bonds and he could feel the blood begin to pump through his wrists and ankles again, causing them to hurt. He slowly brought his arms and legs down, otherwise not making any other move. He didn't know what was happening, really, or what these people, no; _students_ were planning on doing to him. The leader walked in front of him, squatting down, brown eyes meeting green. "Harry Potter. You decided to show your face again. Did you have a good time with the Dark Lord?"

"I didn't see the Dark Lord. I've been in the Hospital Wing this entire time."

The leader laughed. "For the past like, three or four months? I don't think so! Dumbledore hasn't even been here the majority of that time. I suppose he was trying to save you, huh?"

Harry's neck began hurting from the angle he was holding it up at. His arms were in a push-up position though he wasn't actually pushing himself up yet, and his legs were lying behind him, appearing harmless. He shifted his weight and someone grabbed a fistful of hair, pulling his head back even more so his neck was in plain sight. He gave a slight yell, something jabbing his neck where his main artery was. "Can I kill him, or even hurt him a little to clean the darkness in him?" A rough voice asked, Harry thinking it was the bigger kid, Cormac.

Harry saw the leader shake his head. "No, not yet. Maybe when he doesn't speak though."

"What's your name?" Harry asked through clenched teeth.

The leader looked at him, eyes curious. "You don't know who I am? You should know who all of us are."

"No, I don't remember any of you. I've been in the Hospital Wing for the last couple of months and I lost part of my memory."

The leader laughed. "My, my Harry. That's a lovely little lie. Well, if you really don't remember, then I'm not going to tell you my name, for protection of my identity. Now..." He smirked, thinking, the brown eyes glowing. "I don't trust you Potter. You're going to run back off to the Dark Lord. We can't have that. _Imperius."_

Harry felt a tingling sensation, followed by a warmth spreading throughout him. He relaxed, his mind fading away. He heard a gasp from one of the girls. "Michael, you can't! That's an unforgivable curse!"

"It might not even work correctly," One of the boys said.

"Potter, can you hear me?" Michael, he guessed, asked.

"Yes," he answered, half willing, half wondering what was going on as a memory tried to swim its way towards him. He felt the hand on his head slowly release and lay his head on the floor.

"Good. Now. Did you ever go to the Dark Lord? Think carefully about your answer; you wouldn't want to displease me."

He was compelled to say yes, but there was a voice in the back of his head, arguing. _No, I kind of want to displease you, you prick._

"Answer!"

Harry opened his mouth, but his voice caught. _No, I did not go to the Dark Lord. I haven't seen Voldemort...for a while now. _"No," he said, feeling the spell loosen its hold.

"That's not the answer I wanted to hear."

Harry wanted to punish himself, and felt the displeasure rush through him. He mentally fought it though, slowly pulling the true him out and pushing the spell away. "I don't care. I'm not your pet."

Harry moved as he felt the spell break, going to hurt Michael as much as possible. He remembered Moody doing the spell to him, and how he fought it off in all of those trials. Moody's spell had been more powerful though, and out of his torn brain, he was happy he still remembered how to fight it off. He managed to get a fist out, and then was tackled by a mound of bodies before he could cause any harm. He gave a slight yell, but his face was shoved into the burgundy carpet to muffle the noise. "You threw that spell off pretty easily Potter. You definitely went to the Dark Lord. Now... _Torpeo Corpus."_

Harry couldn't see the light, but he felt it hit his head and work its way down his body. Soon he couldn't feel any of his limbs, which worried him greatly. "You have a Ravenclaw to thank for that spell Potter. We're still figuring out how to remove it completely though. Now...what next?"

"How about the cold spell?" a girl asked.

A pause. "The one that doesn't really have a name... Yeah, that'll work. _Penetralis Frigus."_

Through the numb, Harry could dimly feel his body become colder. "Take the numbing spell off," one of the guys said, humour in his voice.

"_Abrogo Torpeo."_

Harry felt the spell begin to lift and his breath caught. It felt like he was sinking to the bottom of the Arctic Ocean. He curled up the best he could, though had a hard time moving his slowly waking limbs. He heard laughing, and he couldn't seem to gather enough strength to shiver. His mind shut down, his only thought being, _cold, cold, so, so cold..._

"Marietta, go make sure no one is in the hall. Seamus, go see if your fellow Gryffindors and the Ravenclaw are still unconscious."

There was the noise of the door opening, Harry slowly fading into darkness. He heard a "No one's out here," and "They're still out."

"Move him. Get him back to the compartment without being seen."

Harry felt himself lifted, the movement jarring him around. Next he knew he was dropped, or maybe thrown and the fall was hard. He was going to bet on that he was thrown and the fall was hard. His position was shifted, and he couldn't move back into the ball he thought he had been in. His breath was short, and the blackness wasn't only consuming his mind, it was consuming his entire body, heart, soul...

"Potter, this only represents the coldness in your heart for those who are on the side of the light. Farewell Death Eater."

_I'm not dark, I swear..._

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Hermione was the first to wake, and the first to realize what happened. She screamed, jumping off of the bench and down to Harry when she realized he was on the ground, spread out. She absently realized that her scream had woken up some of her friends, but her main concern was Harry. She touched his wrist, then quickly withdrew her hand. He was ice! His lips were blue, his skin white like a vampire's, possibly even lighter. She felt for a pulse and gave a sigh of release when she felt one. For a second, she thought it wasn't there.

She felt Ron get down next to her, his breath sounding fast. "Is, is he dead?"

"No." Her voice was high, tight. "No, but we need to warm him up now, otherwise he _will_ die."

She felt and saw more people get down beside her and Harry, Hermione's mind racing. _I need something that will give him warmth, now. The fire wouldn't really work; it's not large enough. What spell would make him so cold though? I don't think this is any normal spell that we'd learn about in a class. I wonder if it was created? _"I need a spell for warmth," she muttered, Ginny and Ron looking at her.

"I think we," Ron pointed towards him and Ginny, "know one. Mum would use it to warm our hands and feet up when we were younger, after playing in the snow." Ron and Ginny took out their wands, pointing them at Harry.

Together, they said, "_Externus Tepidus."_

The faint red lights hit Harry in his sides, spreading over him. Hermione too her hand off of his wrist, the heat a little to hot for her. When the red faded, Hermione felt his skin again, feeling it was a little warmer. "If we all do the spell, I think it'll be enough." She smiled, all taking out their wands. The five of them said, "_Externus Tepidus,_" the faded red light turning darker as the beams hit. It settled over Harry for a couple of seconds before fading.

Hermione placed her hand on his wrist, feeling the temperature. It already felt more regular, which made her relax a little. She checked his pulse next, and found it to still be slow though returning to normal. A voice came over the intercom, causing everyone to jump. "We will be arriving at Platform 9¾ in fifteen minutes. Thank you."

Hermione looked at everyone, her own nervousness feeling like everyone else's. "We have to find a way to get him off of the train, conscious if possible." Everyone stared at her. She sighed, looked at Harry's closed eyes, slow breathing, pale skin, and pointed her wand at him muttering, "_Enervate."_

Harry's eyes opened soon afterwards, the green much darker than normal. He closed his eyes, not having them open again. "Harry," she called, feeling the tension rise.

He groaned, moving, slowly curling into a ball. He began shivering, muttering, "Cold, so cold..." Ron moved and grabbed any extra cloaks and placed them over Harry. Ron next muttered the warming spell over them, Harry's shaking gradually decreasing. When he finally stopped shivering, he continued to huddle in them and look at everyone. "I'm sorry I brought you all into this," he said, eyes only visible.

Hermione shook her head. "We're your friends Harry. Everything is going to be okay. Now we knew what to expect when we come back. We really should change before we completely arrive at the Platform..."

Everyone jumped up except Ginny and Harry, everyone shedding off their robes. Hermione watched Ginny help Harry up, and Ginny kept the cloaks warm while he took off his own robes. When they were all dressed in their muggle attire, Hermione felt the train begin to slow. When there was the complete stop, everyone circled around Harry, Hermione seeing the haunted teen give a small smile. _We're your friends, Harry. There's nothing to worry about. I promise._

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Harry followed everyone off of the train, Ron grabbing Harry's trunk. Harry just watched him, unsure of where to go since he didn't really remember. When everyone had their trunks, Ron helping Harry, he followed Ginny towards the barrier, with Hermione, Neville and Luna close behind. He walked through the wall, happy for the split second that the noise had disappeared. On the other side in the muggle world, Hermione spotted her parents first. Hermione have to say her goodbyes and that they would have a talk about the attack later. Minutes later Luna left next and then Neville, who was still looking a little worried towards Harry, and wished him a happy holidays. "Thanks, Neville," Harry said, trying to smile warmly. "I'll survive. I've made it this far, haven't I?"

Neville attempted a grin, said goodbye, and left with his grandma. Harry followed Ron and Ginny around, unknowing where to go or who to look for. _Red hair, I s'pose..._

"Ron! Ginny!" a voice called out, Harry turning and seeing a plump, gentle woman coming their way. She had bright red hair and soft brown eyes. "And Harry!" she continued while making her way towards them. "I finally found all of you! Oh how it's so nice to see you once more. Well, I suppose we must be on our way now. Arthur's working, and Fred and George were going to stop by later. They're why I'm running late, actually." She looked around. "No Hermione?"

"She already left with her parents. Something about skiing..." Ron said.

Harry followed the redhead, staying silent. He couldn't drag up a memory of this woman for the life of him. He _knew _though that she was kind, motherly, often worried, and did everything she could to personally take care of Harry. They went outside, Harry instantly freezing from the cold Britain winter. The spell that the bastard students had used on him made him feel colder than he probably physically was, but Ron and Ginny noticed the shivers right away.

Once they reached the car that Mrs. Weasley had managed to borrow from the ministry, Ron and Ginny requested the heat right away. When they were on their way, one of the things that Harry noticed right away was that Mrs. Weasley was a fairly good driver. Harry kept the comment to himself, and looked out the window at the passing cars and fields. Finally, Harry guessed they were arriving at their destination when they took an exit and drove onto a rather bumpy and unkempt road.

Harry knew his eyes had widened and his mouth had dropped when he laid eyes on the house. He felt the same emotions as four years ago, but he might as well have been seeing it for the first time again.

"Home sweet home," Ron muttered when they arrived.

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OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Okay, i know you guys probly really really want to shoot me for getting this out to you after two weeks. . i'm so sorry. I've been so fricken busy, and today was one of the days where i've been allowed to rest and breathe and type this up. Tomorrow, hell picks up again. I'm sorry this chapter is shorter, but next chapter, more hell breaks loose!!! It's a good chapter. I'll try to have it up as soon as possible, but i'm not making any promises. Yeah, it's cool. I use my last stuff from the canon, and then i go off onto my own path that's dark, and may cause me to move the story back up to M...lol. we'll see. So. you probably want curse names.  
_Torpeo Corpus--Numb Body  
Penetralis Frigus--Internal Cold  
Abrogo Torpeo--Remove Numbing  
Externus Tepidus--External Warmth_

So yeah, there's that, and i'll try to update soon...thanks all of you who are reading this, and yea...i hope you enjoy this little piece...


	24. New Faces and an Old Voice

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Harry had a blast while at the Weasley's. He literally had forgotten how much fun he always had. Fred and George were amazing as always, and Mr. Weasley still had fun bombarding Harry with Muggle questions whenever he was home. Harry enjoyed the days there, learning of information about the wizarding world that slightly disturbed him. On Christmas morning he was greeted with more surprises. Along with his gifts in the morning, he received a visit from Percy and the Minister of Magic—Rufus Scrimgeour.

The minister managed to get Harry outside by himself, claiming that they were simply going to take a walk around the garden. Finally, he said, "I've wanted to meet you for a very long time. Did you know that, Harry?"

"No," Harry said truthfully.

"Oh yes, for a very long time. But Dumbledore has been very protective of you. Natural, of course, natural, after what you've been through. Words that you've been in the Hospital Wing these past couple of months and of what happened at the Ministry..." Harry continued to be uncommunicative, so the Minister continued on. "I have been hoping for an occasion to talk to you ever since I gained office, but Dumbledore has—most understandably, as I say—prevented that."

Harry avoided Scrimgour's gaze. It made him uncomfortable and he wasn't quite sure of the direction where this conversation was heading.

"The rumours that have flown around!" said Scrimgour. "Well, of course we both know how these stories get distorted...all these whispers of a prophecy...of you being 'the Chosen One'...I assume that Dumbledore has discussed these matters with you?"

Harry looked at the ground, wondering if he should lie or not. _He's discussed it with me, yes, but not a whole lot this year because of what happened. So, technically it's a yes..._ Aloud, he said, "Yeah, we've discussed it."

"Have you, have you?" Harry shifted his gaze to the white sky above, noticing the threatening snow. He could feel Scrimgour eyeing him though. "And what has Dumbledore told you, Harry?"

_To be an asshole, to not be an asshole... Well, he set this up. _"If you honestly think I'm going to tell you, you're kidding yourself. Sorry, but that's between me and him." Harry kept his voice cheerful, and noticed that the minister had a hard time keeping his voice just as light.

"Of course, if it's a question of confidence I wouldn't want you to divulge...no, no... In any case, does it really matter if you are 'the Chosen One' or not?"

That question slightly caught Harry off guard. "I don't understand your question, Minister."

"Well, it's a rather important question to you. It's all about the people's perception of what's happening around them. It's what the people believe that's important."

Harry stayed quiet, thinking he saw the path they were on. The minister continued once more when he saw Harry wouldn't respond. "People believe you _are '_the Chosen One', you see? They think you are quite the hero—which, of course, you are Harry, Chosen or not! How many times have you faced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named now? Well, the point is, you are a symbol of hope for many, Harry. The idea that there is somebody out there who is destined to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named gives people a natural lift."

"Since they don't have to deal with what I do," Harry muttered.

"Pardon?"

Harry smiled. "Nothing. Continue on."

Scrimgour looked a little uncomfortable, but the expression soon changed. "Well, I can't help but feel that, once you realize people rely on you, you might consider it, well, basically a duty to stand strong alongside the Ministry and giving everyone a boost."

_Aha, there's the point. _"So, you want me running in and out of the ministry, telling everyone 'good job'?"

"Exactly!"

Harry shook his head. "See Minister, I'm in school. I've missed a lot of important things. I don't think I can take the time to tell the ministry they are doing a good job when I don't believe they always are. Like, locking up Stan Shunpike for example. If you want a list of Death Eaters, or the personal Assistants of Voldemort," Harry grinned at the mini-seizure Scrimgour seemed to have, "then I will happily assist you. But until you find some true, hard facts, I don't think I can help you."

Scrimgour's face hardened, Harry now meeting his eyes. "I would not expect you to understand. These are dangerous times, and certain measures need to be taken. You are sixteen years old—"

"I see I've finally angered you. Dumbledore's a lot older than sixteen, and he doesn't think Stan should be in Azkaban either. You're making Stan a scapegoat, just like you're making me a mascot. That's pretty low."

They looked at each other long and hard, Harry feeling a lot older than sixteen. Finally Scrimgour said, with no pretense and warmth, "I see, you prefer—like your hero, Dumbledore—to disassociate yourself from the ministry?"

"Not quite. I just don't want to be used."

"Some would say it's your duty to be used by the ministry!"

Harry smirked. "I thought you said it was my duty to defeat Voldemort?" Once more, the mini-seizure. "But others might say it's your duty to check that people are actual Death Eaters before you chuck them in prison. Apparently those people don't count. You're doing what Barty Crouch did. You never get it right, you people, do you? Either we've got Fudge, pretending everything's lovely while people are murdered right under his nose, or we've got you, chucking the wrong people in jail, and trying to pretend you've got 'the Chosen One' working for you!" Harry made fists, trying to control his anger enough so that he wouldn't strike blindly.

"So you're not 'the Chosen One'?"

"I thought you said it didn't matter either way? Not to you, anyway."

Scrimgour seemed to mentally smack himself. "I shouldn't have said that. It was tactless—"

"No, it was surprisingly honest. You don't care whether I live or die, but you do care that I help you convince everyone you're winning the war against Voldemort. I haven't forgotten, Minister." Harry raised his right fist, showing the white, scarred words _I must not tell lies._ "I don't remember you rushing to my defense when I was trying to tell everyone Voldemort was back. The Ministry wasn't so keen to be pals last year. What changed?" Harry forced the last part with a bitter smile.

They stood in silence, exchanging glares. Finally, Scrimgour asked, "What is Dumbledore up to? Where does he go when he is absent from Hogwarts?"

"No idea."

"And you wouldn't tell me if you knew, would you?"

"Nope."

Scrimgour crossed his arms, one locking around the walking stick. "Well then, I guess I shall try finding out by other means."

Harry shrugged. "You can try. You seem cleverer than Fudge, so you might have learned from his mistakes. Remember though that he tried interfering at Hogwarts. Well, you should have noticed how's he's not Minister anymore, and Dumbledore's still Headmaster. I'd leave Dumbledore alone if I were you."

"Are you threatening me?"

"A little." Harry shrugged. "More just honest advice."

"I guess I can say you are Dumbledore's man through and through."

"Yep. Glad we straightened that out."

Harry walked back to the house, feeling much better than he thought he would at the end of the escapade.

Later that night, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George begged/asked (begging from Ginny, asking from Ron and Harry) to go up to the village to look at the Christmas lights. Fred and George came along as supervisors. Bundling up tight as Harry finished telling Ron about the fiasco with Scrimgour, they left, Harry having a bad feeling at the back of his mind. Suddenly, he really didn't want to go. As the group was halfway to the village, he was forced from his mind, feeling a familiar presence. _Ah, Harry, glad to see you again. How are you?_

Harry yelled, but Voldemort kept a tight hold of his mind. They continued walking towards the village, Harry dropping back a little as the twins cracked jokes, Ron occasionally joining in, and Ginny just listened.

_I've fixed my plans, and now it's time to see justice done. You're much stronger, so this should work out quite well. _Harry felt Voldemort take out Harry's wand, and slowly point it towards the back of everyone. "_Stupefy!"_ he yelled, drawing the wand across everyone. Surprised, but then unconscious, the Weasley's collapsed to the ground. Voldemort stepped over Harry's friends, continuing to use Harry's body to get up the hill. At the top, Harry saw three Death Eaters waiting, all tall and broad. When the three grabbed a hold of him, Harry slid back into control, and the four apparated away.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

He was thrown onto a table, bright fluorescent lights above him. He was dizzy and his head hurt a lot. His mouth was ripped open, and a liquid was poured in. Harry tried not to swallow, but a voice muttered, "_Voro." _Harry felt his neck comply, and the liquid soon began burning as it traveled down his esophagus. He began screaming as soon as he could, hearing laughter around him. He wreathed across the table in pain, the lights above blinding him. He distantly heard a voice ask, "What's wrong, Severus? Aren't you enjoying this as well?"

"It's not enough. This is simply child's play."

More laughter. Harry felt tears running down his face, his stomach trying to get the contents out of it. He managed to turn onto his side and retch everything. The burning was twice as worse though, and he heard a chorus of "Gross, eww!" around him. He laid there, gasping, whimpers of pain often coming through.

"That was fast," someone said, male, like the rest of the room Harry guessed.

"We could beat him," one suggested.

"But the Dark Lord said when he was going to give permission," another slightly defended.

"So? We can begin at least. That way, it's easier to break him," the one suggested again.

"But that will take the fun out of it," another said.

"Well, go ask the Dark Lord," another man, Harry thought Snape, said. There was a murmur of words. "You all are scared. Grow some balls and talk to him," the voice said again, footsteps resounding throughout the room. "I'll go talk to him, since he doesn't scare me."

A door opened and shut before everyone broke out into laughter. "Severus is such a suck up," one said, a roar of laughter agreeing, along with other words thrown in. "Well, we can at least see what the boy is made of," the man said again.

Harry curled into a ball, or at least attempted to. _I just finished healing. Why can't I be left alone? Earlier today I was feeling older than sixteen, but now I feel like a target of Dudley's again..._ He was pulled open, and another potion was pushed into his mouth, along with others. He wondered distantly if the men knew what they were doing, before the pain ripped his mind to shreds. He screamed, arching his back off of the metal table, trying to find any position that didn't hurt. He could feel his skin break open, blood pouring out as if it was fleeing from his body. He felt his nerves and muscles squirming, wanting release from the potions. He couldn't stop yelling. From the pain that was flowing through him and the vibrating muscles, his mouth was stuck open and his voice was pushed out.

He felt his bones snap one by one by invisible pressure. His lungs quit working, blood pooling into them, as his mouth was still stuck in the 'O'. Over his off and on screams he thought he heard someone yell in outrage. He was touched, his skin tearing open and bruising around the surroundings. He cringed away from the touch, feeling blood pour out again. He face landed near the area of vomit, the smell causing his insides to heave again. The smell disappeared though, but it didn't matter.

Harry retched again, the taste coppery this time. Once he began, he couldn't seem to stop. He was fading, not from the pain or potions, but from the loss of blood. He was dying, this early into the game. He had only been there for a day, and he was dying... He _was_ weak, couldn't handle the torture, like Ron and Hermione and Ginny told him.

_Don't worry Potter, you're not dying. Why would I want to kill my pet in the beginning? I wouldn't be a good owner then. I'm just teaching you the lessons, breaking your mind, or, training if you will, for you to follow my every command, like a loyal companion. You would be such a lovely dog Harry. But, I won't transfigure you into one; that's too...odd, and not my style. Pain is more enjoyable. Always. _

Harry began sobbing, realizing his body had calmed down. He was stuck, and no one knew what happened. Hell, he barely knew what happened. Oh, he was screwed.

He felt Voldemort slide from his mind, as a voice made a calming noise. "You'll be okay Harry. I'll help you the best that I can."

Only then did Harry manage to calm down and pass out.

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Hmm...well, here's little harry, and it gets worse...XD hehe. So i really dislike scrimgour, and i see him as an asshole. And i think harry needs more thoughts in the book, so i added some. Yeah. Here's Voldie, and Harry is at his little home. What's going to happen next? Is harry going to escape? Is snape going to help him out? Is harry's mind going to be broken? What are voldemorts plans? So many options, you'll just have to wait and see!!!! lol. Thanks to all of you who are reviewing!!!! And same warning comes out as before:: I start swimming on monday, so, i seriously have no idea when i'm going to update next. Need i go over my lovely list again of how busy i am? Lets not and say i did. So, i'll try to update asap, but no promises...


	25. Cruel Strategies and a Tortured Mind

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WARNING:: K, this chapter contains some adult material. If you dont think you can handle this...well...sorry. You've made it this far, haven't you? So why not have me corrupt you a little? XD there's worse things you can read...of mine...yeah. So. Just btw.

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Harry was hanging upside down. He was often in this position. It was either this, or crumpled on the ground, unconscious. He had lost track of the days. It could have been one, or could have been six since he was brought here. Voldemort's main torturer, Shanike, was very skilled. She, yes she, could leave pain behind and not show any mark. She used muggle weapons on him, and only potions to keep him awake. He learned to fear her touch, and it all seemed ironic. She was of average height—five foot seven at the most, long bright blonde hair that wasn't fake, a gentle voice, and had the skin color and eye shape that hinted she might be Asian. At first glance Harry had been shocked; a girl was his torturer? Yep, and she was good at what she did.

He had another torturer as well, a male, though he didn't come as often. He used magic as much as possible, as well as potions. He left visible marks on Harry, which Shanike didn't really like. "You have beautiful skin," she told him one session, "And Marlo doesn't need to ruin it."

Harry opened his eyes, Shanike bending down and peering into his eyes. "You stopped screaming," she noted, voice soft and gentle.

Harry's throat felt raw. Between all of the potions he'd been fed, he wondered how his voice lasted for so long. He just hung limp, eyes fluttering open and shut. He knew he should respond, but he could barely open his mouth, let alone speak.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry that you can't speak. Maybe I can bring your voice back. More pain seems to be in order." Her voice never changed to talking like a baby, like Bellatrix Lestrange's voice. Shanike always spoke to him like you might to a lover.

She stepped back, looking thoughtful. Harry watched her, learning fast to not close his eyes in fear while she thought. Finally, she put her hand down from her lips and walked over to the part of the room where she kept her supplies since blood never seemed to reach there...most of the time.

Harry took the best breath he could and managed to suppress coughing. Tears were in his eyes when she returned, a pleasant grin on her gentle face. _No... She's using that look. This is going to hurt. No, someone, help..._

Harry knew any sort of begging was helpless. Shanike had her whip with her, the leather black with a bright red strip down the rod, the stripped ends that she used on him a bright, royal blue. The wrist band was a dark green, and the colors all seeming to suit whatever outfit she chose to wear. She loved the whip, and had a knack for hitting him for hours and not leaving a noticeable mark...for the most part. She also had barbed wire, which she set down next to her feet. She had the three pieces that wrapped around his throat, wrists, and thighs.

Harry closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. He felt a smack across his face, feeling at first like a soft feather of a bird, soon growing into a bull that just rammed into his cheek. He yelled, barely, eyes open wide. "Good, you know not to close your eyes before the first hit." Shanike's voice was still soft, but a pleasure was now in it.

Harry gave the best upside down nod he could, and barely succeeded. Shanike smiled. "You're to cute."

Still smiling, she struck Harry hard in the stomach. He kept his eyes open since he had no voice to yell with as the flower of pain blossomed into the beautiful thing Shanike seemed to enjoy. He ground his teeth together, Shanike giving a satisfied nod. He had leaned that when his voice was unavailable, he had to keep his eyes open. If he was unable to keep his eyes open, he was punished worse and longer. Shanike told him if she couldn't hear the pain, she wanted to see it reflect in his eyes.

She next smacked the whip on the underside of his jaw, Harry managing to yell, able to shut his eyes. He couldn't feel his mouth, and he was sure she had broken something. This spot though managed to block out the other two places she had hit. He felt tears slide out of his eyes and flow into his hair or drip on to the ground, mixing with the dried blood. Sometimes, you could even find pieces of bodies lying around the room. Fingers, toes, tongues, skin, hair, etc. Fingers and tongues were the most common. He thought there was an eye over by the doorway too. Shanike loved the messiness, except for the age of most of the excess pieces. Marlo hated the smell, but loved the body pieces and blood.

Harry was hit again across the back of this knees, ankles, on his shoulders, and the across his neck and stomach. Even though he was naked, she never seemed to hurt his groin. She would get very close, but never once hit it. Said she had enough respect to leave _that_ alone. Marlo though loved to see how much skin he could peel off before blood came or Harry began screaming for him to stop.

Harry yelled the best he could, managing to keep his eyes open whenever his voice faded and needed a little break. Shanike stopped whipping him sooner than he thought she normally did. Had he followed all of the rules? If so, he might be able to leave the room conscious. That was the plan, at least. She got down close to his face again, smiling gently. _Oh shit, she's not done yet._

"I want to put your collar on." Harry knew his face paled even more. "Did you know the Dark Lord wants to have a collar like this for you?" She walked over and grabbed the barbed wire chokers. She came back, face holding compassion as she bent down to his level again. "He asked me to make it specifically. Oh, I can design it beautifully. I think I can make it green...to match your eyes." She smiled, darker than Harry had ever seen. "Or, maybe I can get a little more personal. I can make it a red, auburn color, for the color of your mother's hair. Or, it can be black for the color of you and your father's hair.

"The black can symbolize your encased spirit. The red can symbolize the amount of blood and pain you'll go through. The green can symbolize the outside world that was taken from you. Or, maybe how envious you will become of those who are all free, not to be cliché or anything."

Shanike stood up, becoming gentle once more. "I know how to make it, but I need a color for the leash of your color. I'll have to think about that. It's the Dark Lord; it has to be special. I might take out the black and red. They're too obvious. The green would be a lovely choice, but we'll see."

She smiled once more before she strapped the barbed wire collar around his neck, the short sharp tips instantly digging in and drawing blood. She put the wrist shackles on, somehow always managing to avoid poking herself. She grabbed the thigh ones and tied one around each thigh, Harry gritting his teeth. She left him and went back over to her bag, digging through it and finally pulling some other toys out that he had never seen before. When she walked back over, Harry strained to keep his eyes on her, and not to look at what she was holding. Another rule of hers.

"That's a good boy," she finally said, slightly sounding like she was talking to a dog. "You may look at the items now."

Harry's eyes stayed on her cool, dark blue almost purple ones for a moment longer before he watched her lay down the items at her feet. They all looked...well...different. He didn't know how to describe them or if his mind was refusing to see what they really were. One looked like something that might keep your mouth open that dentists would use when drilling into your teeth and it had some odd attachments. Another looked basically like a jockstrap, only made out leather with what looked to be pins and broken glass sticking out everywhere, even on the cup. Harry highly doubted the pins would be on the outside. Another looked like a facemask almost. There were eyeholes, a place for nostrils, and an opening for his mouth. In Shanike's hands she was holding her whip and what looked to be like a leather belt.

He looked back at Shanike and saw her smile as she set the whip and belt down to put her hair up into a ponytail. She was about to get dirty. She rarely ever let him bleed, but whenever she did, she went all out and did more damage and pain than Marlo ever could. "So, ready to get started?" she finally asked.

He shook his head, knowing she liked any answer, as long as it was honest. She smiled, looking at him while she bent down and grabbed the belt and the mouth-opener thing with the attachments. She walked over to him, and held up the odd mouth-thing. "This is called _der breite mund_. Or, basically translated into 'the wide mouth.' It doesn't only hold your mouth open though. The metal pieces here at the top are to hold your eyes open. I can remove them if I wish, but I like them on.

"This next one is _das blut gürtel_, or 'the blood belt.' I can snap it anywhere I want it to, and it'll attach itself to you until I tell it to release. And I can make you bleed a lot with this. So, care to try these two out?"

Harry once more shook his head, Shanike smiling. She attached the belt around his right ankle, and it wound it's way up around his leg like a snake. When it was at his thigh, close to the barbed wire thigh belt, Shanike tapped it with her wand, one of the only moments where he's ever seen her use the little piece of wood. The blood belt tightened, ensuring itself in place. Harry looked at her, and could see the reflection of her smile in her eyes. She tapped the belt two more times, and he felt needles poke the top of his skin, but not pierce through.

"These are about the only magical devices I use. Well, the mouth device isn't really magical, but everything else is to one point or another. Most of the things I use are German inventions, in case you haven't noticed. Invented mostly in the medieval times and up to Hitler's era. Pretty fascinating history if you ask me. These though are all custom made." Shanike crouched down and began putting the mouth piece in.

There were two sides to it, though it was attached in the middle. The piece was made out of metal, and it was felt cold as Shanike began putting it in his mouth. Each side had a round, crescent moon-shaped arc, and it fit over the side of his mouth and into it perfectly. He remembered that the version that the dentists used had a little thing for the patient to hold onto while the dentists were drilling or looking at your back teeth. This one had a metal bar that snapped into place, holding his mouth open.

"These little attachments here," Shanike said, moving the little metal bars that had circular tips closer to his eyes, "are to keep your eyes open. They might hurt a little bit, but we all love a little more pain, don't we?" She opened one of Harry's eyes wider, and placed the circular place on it. It rested gently, but if he tried to move the metal piece blurred his vision and began to sting very sharply. She placed the second one on, the sting sharpening. Harry made a strangled noise, unable close his eyes or move his mouth around.

"A bunch of the devices though have been banned or destroyed over the years. They didn't try hiding all of the pictures though. All of these are muggle inventions, which is astounding, so of course I had to build them the muggle way. That involved figuring out _how _to build them without any master plans, then alter them so they were easier to use, while still capable of using magic. I love inventing and building things though, so the more dedicated I am to a project, the sooner it's done and the more pain it causes. So, in general, I'm done pretty quickly."

Harry gave a weak cry out as Shanike pushed down on the eye pieces, ensuring they were in place. He thought if he moved them at all they were going to cut the outer layer of his eyes, make them bleed, and then ruin his vision forever. As much as he didn't want to, he was stuck staring at her. Did that mean he wasn't allowed to make a noise?

"This shall be interesting... I didn't want to stand and watch you suffer. I enjoy making you scream."

Harry breathed awkwardly out of his mouth, Shanike bending down and grabbing her whip. She lifted it up, the ends slightly swinging. She snapped her fingers, and Harry felt the needles in his right leg from the belt pierce through his skin, heading deeper and deeper. She cracked her whip, then began to hit Harry, who was unable to do anything. He struggled in his chains, but that was about it. The pain magnified and he was trying to yell, but whatever came out sounded closer to grunts.

Shanike smiled at his movements, and hit him with more grace than she had before. Soon blood was running down his face and into his eyes. He struggled, unable to blink or move. He felt the whip break skin, and then heat rose worse than ever. He knew his chest and thighs were going to be fleshy strips of skin and pummeled bits of meat underneath.

He was right.

As Harry was passing out, Shanike gave him a reviving potion. Harry woke up despite his body's protests, and was first aware of all of the blood that was stinging in his eyes, mouth, nose, and began to notice more and more the open, raw flesh lining his body, mostly on his chest and legs. The more he noticed it, the more it seemed the air was burning him. Harry felt sick and wanted to retch whatever was in his stomach. He saw Shanike put the whip onto her belt and bend down; grabbing what he thought was the jockstrap-thing.

"Now, this is called Purposeful Pleasure. Or Killing Desire. I don't know yet. I've read and heard about it, but I've never seen the true thing. This is my creation, and I'm quite fond of it, actually. Even though I promised _I_ wouldn't touch your valued parts, I didn't say that I wasn't going to use my little toys on them. We'll see how well you're able to keep yourself calm. I'll take off the eye pieces afterwards. I want your eyes open for this."

She walked over to him, and placed the belt on first, the sharp pieces, Harry guessing something similar to glass, digging into him. She next placed on the straps that followed the shape of his ass, Harry jerking as the glass bit him. She finally placed on the cup, which seemed a little too big. He felt himself get cut, and increased his breathing as his body seemed to give small spasms.

Harry watched Shanike, having a fairly good idea of what she was going to do. Shanike looked at him for a moment, smiling gently, before she took off her black jacket, revealing a black lacy bra and fairly large breasts. She stripped off her leather pants, a black lacy thong underneath that matched the bra. Damn. Harry couldn't move his eyes even if the metal pieces weren't holding them in place as she ran her fingers over her body. She steadily walked towards him, unbothered by the blood on her bare feet. She took her hair down, the blonde pieces falling like a closing curtain on a stage. Only, the closing curtain closed around him and her. She brought her eyes close to him, and ran her hands up his shoulders gently, Harry's breath increasing at her touch. She lightly kissed his forehead, that being the beginning of his pleasure. He felt himself begin to harden, and tried to control his breathing to calm down.

She gave him her gentle, always forgiving smile, and slowly removed the mouth holders. The eyes pieces loosened, Shanike taking precious care to take them out without hurting him to bad. When everything was out, Harry slowly blinked, clearing his eyes of the drying blood and rewetting them. He closed his mouth, and clenched his eyes shut as they began to burn. He felt tears well up and slip out of his eyes, Shanike licking them and following the trail to his eyes which she kissed softly.

Harry's breathing pitched and his control was wavering. _No, no, no, calm down, must calm down..._

Shanike seemed to sense what was happening ans ran her hands up his body and moved them along the belt. She had to make herself a little taller so her face was more in Harry's neck, his face in her chest almost. Rubbing one hand along his hips, she took his face and pressed them to her breasts while kissing/licking his neck. It was gentle enough to be kissing, but he thought she was licking the surrounding blood. Harry felt himself lose most of his control. She felt so _good, _so _right_ with him, and her figure... He couldn't control himself anymore...it was impossible...

He let out a cry as he hardened completely, fully erect almost. Only the glass-shard cup was holding him back. He yelled, feeling blood pooling, pain suddenly spreading throughout the area, and in his chest and thigh as Shanike touched the ruined areas, pushing her fingers down into the tender flesh and muscle.

He heard her laughing slightly, pulling away from him. "You held yourself pretty well, considering some of the others. One of the longest for sure. The longest was a guy was flaming gay, and I figured out how to get him fully erect. Let's just say I was a little more willing to do things he didn't think I'd do, since I was a girl."

Harry didn't care to know what she did. All that he was worried about was the damaging cuts to his lower area. The glass cuts and pain through his chest and legs killed his boner fast, luckily. He was crying again, but he thought he was allowed to pass out...until he felt the belt ripped out of his leg, renewed screams soon fading. Then the jockstrap was taken out, nicer than the belt, and then the cup was slowly removed, Shanike smiling.

"You're bleeding a lot. I'm more surprised than I thought I'd be. You're a fair size."

Despite himself and the circumstances, Harry somehow managed to blush. _I'm sixteen years old, and she's telling me how nice my size is? No! I really...not in this situation do I care for her to compare and contrast. _

"Well, it's fairly decent. Just be happy you're not much bigger. That cup is one size fits all. I have one more toy I want to put on you, and I'll leave. Or, leave you hanging around when I decide to go. A Death Eater might let you down...eventually."

Shanike bent down and picked the mask up, placing the other devices on the ground. She straighted, carefully fitting the mask over Harry's face. He felt the straps pulled together at the back of his head, snapping in the back. "This one is called the _Dernèier Lettre,_ or 'Last Letter,' created by Jean Boucher. People who used it usually left some sort of last message behind, and then used this as a form of suicide. It burns your face and then melts off your skin, vaporizes your blood...and you're still alive until the heat reaches your brain and fries that. It's a slow and painful way to die, but I'm only giving you a test run. The Dark Lord would be most displeased if I accidentally killed you."

She touched the forehead of the cool metal piece lightly, Harry's breath increasing. It took a couple of seconds before the mask began to feel warm, then escalating as if he was being sunburned. He began sweating droplets which barely got off his forehead before they evaporated. Harry felt himself moved onto the floor, his ankles free from the chain that held him and the barbed wire bracelets that wove his wrists together. He grabbed at the mask, wanting it off. He kept his eyes shut, in fear of somehow burning those too. He felt his face begin to fry, all moisture drying away.

He began to make noises, and squirmed across the ground, finding anything possible that would take the heat away even for a split second. Burned flesh met his nostrils and he started whimpering, soon turning into screams. His face felt unnaturally hot compared to the rest of his cool body.

Then it really began. He could feel the heat eat away his skin, reach down into the muscle, nerves, tissue, and tendons. Blood spurted out, momentarily cooling him off before it evaporated onto his skin. He managed to yell, screams becoming louder and more distressed. He felt someone bump into him, and then...the heat stopped. He was still yelling, the mask continuing to hold most of the heat in still. He rocked back and forth, gripping the mask.

"I should give you a real mask to wear," someone said to him. "I could set it on your face, and then your skin could grow around it, and it'd become stuck. I don't think the Dark Lord would approve though. I personally wouldn't like it either, but it's a cool idea."

He felt the mask detach itself with a hiss, the cold air refreshing his face, Harry able to hold his hands at his chest. He knew his face was beyond raw, but only touching it would make it feel worse.

"Are you willing to dedicate your life and soul to the great Dark Lord yet? It'll stop the pain the sooner you say yes."

Harry gave a slight shake of his head, and even managed to mutter "never." He heard laughing, and then a sigh.

"Tsk, tsk. Still in the rebellious stage. You'll come around eventually. But it's been four days, well, almost five. I don't think you'll begin to crack for another two weeks. It'll probably be longer than that. Usually, from past experiences, most begin to collapse after two weeks. I personally think you won't crack, even a tiny bit, for another month. And then it'll be another two or three to break you, unless you fold very easily. It could go either way." More laughter. "Oh, this is going to be quite fun. I can go basically all out with no fear of sending your mind into the black abyss."

Footsteps led away from him, Harry on the verge of passing out. He didn't like this version of passion out. It was longer and more painful. He heard the footsteps coming back to him, and then thought he heard something shake. "Salt, plus raw skin equals pleasure...for me. It's just more torture for you."

He heard something of a hissing sound, then felt the little crystals land on his face. The hissing sound must of been the salt landing on his open face. It was cooling at first, then after a couple of seconds it felt like his face had been lit on fire again. He squirmed, trying to get the crystals off of him. They stuck to his open wound, melting quickly. He yelled, still refusing to touch his face in attempt to get the salt out. He'd probably end up pushing it in further and cause himself more pain.

"Only sixteen years old. Then Dark Lord must consider you quite special. Well, you _are_ Harry Potter, but he wants you broken as soon as possible. Usually he wants it drawn out. I know he wants a leash and collar and for you to always be next to him, but what's the rush? He obviously wants something. Well, I must be off. The salt will dim to a stinging, I'm afraid. One of the Death Eaters will come clean you up. I'm sure it'll be that Snape, but I think he had to leave and return to the school. Well, have a splendid night and try not to hurt yourself anymore than is necessary."

Harry heard footsteps leading away once more as the salt began to fade to a sting. His tears managed to help a little, luckily. Harry laid on the floor, fading out as fast as his face was numbing. In other words, more slowly than he wanted. Sometime later he heard the door open, the shoes sounding like boots as they came across the floor towards him. He felt the hands touch his arms and life him up, his intake of breath louder than the person's who had picked him up.

"Harry, you're in safe hands now. I'll take the pain away from you for the moment."

_Snape...the neutral one. The one that hates me. No, the one that's helping me survive. Do I hate him for that? No...he's the only one that I can trust here._

Only then did Harry completely allow himself to fold into the darkness and sweep into undesired dreams.

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OMG!!!!! I'm totally sorry for having this chapter out so late!!! But i seriously haven't been home at all, and even then i'm at school right now bored in the my class, so i thought i'd be nice and update. I would have had this chapter up a week ago, when i had free time, but the internet at my cousins house hated fanfic so whenever i tried to save my changes, it didnt!!! So, yeah, i'm not putting out a chapter with that many mistakes. but it's here now and i PROMISE i'll have the next chapter out as soon as i have time cus it's already typed up :D omg that hasn't happened forever!!! So. yes. I think i got the translations right, and if anyone wants to correct them or anything...coughcoughbybyttecoughcough then yeah, that'll be cool. One french and two german names. Yep. so. thanks to all of you lovely reviewers who still have faith in me updating sometime and keep on following the story. LOVE YOU ALL!!!! 


	26. Broken

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Harry had fled and found a place where he could hide while the pain racked his body. Mentally, of course. He hadn't seen the outdoors or the rest of wherever place he was in for a long time. He only knew of the torture room, his chamber, and whatever the first room was when he arrived there. He thought he had been in the place for over a month, from what Shanike had told him. And she had told him his mind was beginning to crack. She said if she kept up the torture, he was going to collapse pretty quickly. When he found a place in his mind where he could disappear was an amazing discovery.

Harry heard his chamber door open, while still on the line between consciousness and unconsciousness. He felt someone come over, or rather, sensed them, and then felt cold fingers touch his forehead. The fingers were placed on his scar, which only caused pain to flare up and for him to pull away. The heat faded as the fingers lifted away, but the pain only picked up again as the hand grabbed at his forehead. He yelled, unable to stop the tears that were beginning to come out of his eyes. Harry left his little mental hiding spot and put himself back into the control of his body, only to feel the pain slap him in the face. He tried to squirm away, but his muscles protested. He thought he could hear someone—a girl—telling the person who held him up that whomever held him down should let go.

"I'm sorry master, but you must stop! You will break his mind differently than I have been working on. If you change his punishment to where he'll breaks like this, he could become mentally retarded, trapped in his own mind—basically a zombie, or it could cause mental damage that is irreversible. Please, master, let go of him!"

Harry felt the fingers stay a moment longer before they lifted, the cool air feeling close to a blizzard on Harry's scar. He curled up into a ball and retreated back into his mental hiding place. He thought he heard a smack and a light cry in pain. "You should move faster. All I hope is that I sped up the process. You may know what you're doing, but I am your master. If I say jump, you ask how high. You follow _my _rules. Understand?"

"Yes master," a weak voice responded.

Harry heard the door slide shut, locking them in the darkness. He opened his eyes slowly, and even then that was too fast. He shut his eyes and felt Shanike come closer, sitting next to him. They sat in silence for awhile, Harry gathering his strength and voice for the question he wanted to ask. Finally, he was able to say, "Why do you serve Voldemort?" His voice cut off at Voldemort's name, but he was sure she knew who he was talking about.

"Because...I can. He provides me a place to live, a place to practice my talents without being questioned. He pays me in many things, and I am grateful for being here."

"How long—" Harry tried, before cutting off as he began coughing, feeling and tasting blood come from his mouth once more.

"Have I been here? Four years. Going on five I think in one month. See, I'm not accepted among wizards. I'm technically American, and I moved to France when I was ten. It was no fun journey learning French after so long of speaking english. I was accepted into Beauxbatons when I was eleven, which surprised my parents since they're muggle. So here I am, pretty little blonde American girl with a weird name who's a mudblood and unable to speak much French. I was a genuine mutt. I suppose I might as well add that my mother's Japanese, and my father's straight up American. Somehow, I got more of his features. I look more white than anything, which is a little disappointing.

"I've always excelled in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions. Beauxbaton is different with their classes than Hogwarts. We had three groups, you can say. One is the best, two is where your average I-can-catch-on-pretty-quickly kids go, and three was where everyone who had difficulties in learning, was mentally impaired, etc, went. Every year the groups changed, sort of. Most of the kids who went into group two stayed in group two for the seven years." Shanike smiled. "Me though, I began in group three, and finished in the top of group one. Once I learned French and became used to it, classes were a lot easier and I was able to make some friends. Potions and DADA helped me through all seven years, and showed that I wasn't really as dumb as everyone thought I was. The friends I was able to make though never really lasted long since rumors always went around about me, since I had such a mixed heritage."'

Harry saw Shanike shake her head and say, "Why am I telling you all of this? You don't care. I'm your torturer. It'll only give me more motivation to hurt you if we become friends." She looked at Harry, eyes shining. "It makes me want to see what you'll put up with to please me."

She came closer to Harry, kissing his lips lightly, enough to smudge the drying blood. He watched her lick her lips slowly, before bending back down slowly to kiss him again, this time harder. _She wants the blood, and I have plenty of it. I don't want her to press harder on me though. She's bad enough, and I know she can be worse... So much pain, torment..._

He put his attention back to the female that seemed to be enjoying the taste of him. He felt her almost straddling him, bent over and licking the blood off of his neck and cheek. She planted little kisses here and there, but ever since she used the one jockstrap thing on him three times, he was pretty damn good at holding his excitement, especially since she kept making the cup smaller. Now, the cup seemed borderline snug whenever she used it, even when he was content.

He tried to push away from her, but his limbs didn't want to move. He didn't know if it was because he was still hurt or if he was beginning to enjoy this. He hoped for the first one since his body was almost completely numb and it was a reason he could deal with. He could tell Shanike was getting into it though. Could he blame her? Probably. Did he want to? No. She was beautiful, had dealt with worse shit than him, and has the Dark Lord as her master. They were so much alike, and he needed the release just as much as her from all of the torment, he needed anything to take his own pain away...

He finally relaxed and accepted Shanike's kisses, movements, and felt more relaxed than he had for a long time. He was floating, his vision was wavering, sliding in and out of darkness and light...

And then it all shattered.

He was hanging upside down, unable to hide from the bright florescent lights shining on him. "Did little Harry wake up from a pleasant dream?" Shanike asked gently, smiling like a lover would. "Sorry, I didn't want you to feel the move. It worked though, didn't it? You only woke up because I told you to. I know how to give you nightmares too, as well as the dreams. I'm not as good at nightmares as I am at the dreams, but I can make something. It's a little trick a teacher taught me in my exploration back in America. Muggles can be so much fun to torment. That's usually who I practice on...and prisoners like you of course. Now. The Dark Lord wants you broken as soon as possible. I can't guarantee anything for him though. You're so close, and one wrong move can send you spiraling in a direction I don't want."

Harry just looked at Shanike, wanting to go back into the unconsciousness. He felt detached, like it wasn't even him who was currently hanging upside down, and the real him was watching everything on the sidelines. Harry just watched her, not wanting to be hurt. He just wanted to sleep and allowed to heal. He needed those two things the most. This was one of the moments he was happy for the quick recovery potions, like the ones Snape had been giving him the past month. They hadn't spoken to each other much though, since Harry's voice was often gone, and Snape was in for two seconds before he had to leave to head to wherever.

Harry was sort of drawn back to his body when Shanike slid a finger around him, seeming to mark where she wanted to hit. He learned that Shanike always made plans before taking action. That way, she could keep herself in control. Only once had Shanike come in and tortured him out of pure anger. He never wanted that to happen again. She had cut deep enough for blood, and once she saw sight of the crimson warm liquid, she seemed to crave it and only wished to see more. Harry had fallen into unconsciousness long before she quit beating him and he didn't wake up for over a day afterwards. He had learned that Snape had been worried he wasn't going to survive and Shanike was punished for putting him so close to death. Even though it had made a huge jump in him being broken, she still could have killed him, and Voldemort didn't want it to happen again.

"I think I'll begin with the whip. There's not much more space left to mark up. You have too many cuts and bruises. Oh, Marlo's coming in today and we're going to have a double session. If you're not broken by the end of my session, you will be by tonight. Promise. If not, the Dark Master will be very upset and we don't want that."

She cracked the whip once, said, "No screaming until the thirteenth hit," and then smacked him across the back if the neck. _One,_ he counted, trying not to scream. Shanike knew how to hit him so she wouldn't accidentally paralyze him or anything. She next attacked his lower back, and switched between his neck, lower back, and feet. She seemed to have a pattern, so Harry could manage to keep track. When she hit his lower back on the fourteenth hit he yelled, his voice soon fading to a whisper. "Good boy," Shanike said. "You kept track. Now that you can yell, there's not going to be a pattern to follow and predict."

She smacked the bottom of Harry's feet, moved his left shoulder, over to his right, then to the bottom of his chin. Her movements seemed to flow into one, proving she had done this enough times to be called a professional. As soon as he could, Harry fled to his hiding spot and even then the pain reached him. He stayed curled in a little ball, trying to hide, while his real body remained limp, dealing with smack after smack. Even when he was aware Shanike had finished his body still felt like it was getting beat. Once the icy burn of the marks began to fade, Harry chanced a look up from his mental hiding spot. He could see an image of the wall between his core mind and insanity, and he could see all of the cracks. Almost every inch was covered, creating a fog-white wall. One more crack and it was going to shatter. No...he had to try to get out...he had to save himself...

_It's useless. I'm stuck, and no one's ever going to find me... I'm Voldemort's pet, and he's going to make me do whatever he wishes...turn me against Dumbledore, my friends, the entire wizarding nation...and I had that fight with Scrimgour, so he already thinks Dumbledore and I are on the dark side. _

Harry pulled his body tight again as he distantly heard Shanike say, "Ah, Marlo, you're early. Well, he's very close, so this should go by quick. I'll take a small break and let you have some fun with him."

_No, no, don't leave me with Marlo..._

Harry hated everything about the man that he knew about. Marlo had short black hair, bright blue eyes that seemed to have candles lit behind them, strong body build, and was a little older than Harry. Marlo was nineteen whereas Shanike was twenty-three, and he was known for slaughtering part of his hometown as well as trying to pull a mass murdering spree at the age of seven in the Ministry of Magic. The only reason he wasn't sent to Azkaban was because of how old he was at the time and he had been using his mother's wand. Instead, he was put of the wizard's form of probation, and then the children's form of that.

Marlo often spoke while he was torturing Harry and told a lot of stories. He hadn't run out yet, and he was only nineteen years old! Harry found out why Marlo loved blood and when he started obsessing over how people died. Harry hated Marlo much more than Shanike because since Marlo wasn't allowed to kill Harry, he always thought of ways to push the line to see how strong Harry was. Since Harry was still alive, he told Harry that he was strong and now Marlo only tormented for pain and blood.

"Well, I'm so flattered Shanike would leave you to me for awhile. She hates my tactics in torturing. So...where to start?" Another thing Harry hated his voice. For someone of his thickness and height, his voice was smooth as a midnight stream, and light as the wind blowing through the grass. It wasn't very deep, but it wasn't very high-pitched. A good tenor possibly. It just didn't suit his actions, size, and height of six-three.

Harry felt the soft hands trace his chest, then felt them leave as he heard footsteps walk away. Harry crawled out of the corner of his mind, and took a peek out of his real body. He whimpered at all of the pain, yet no sound came out of his mouth.

Before he could feel the full effects of how damaged his body was, he ran back into his corner, seeing the mental cracks of his wall. It was being pushed against, and Harry knew only his fear of being hit again would break it. What would happen when his mind finally broke? Harry didn't want to know. Once more he felt Marlo's soft, cool hands on his neck, which was one of Marlo's favorite spots to touch.

"You're such a handsome little boy. You're going to be even better once you break. Maybe the Dark Lord will let me play with you after you've been with him for awhile, or if you ever need some punishment..."

_Breathe, calm down, just breathe...Shanike would come before him. Voldemort wouldn't let him touch me. No... _He felt Marlo open his mouth and slip one of the potions into it. Harry swallowed the best he could since he was still upside down, the smooth liquid covering his throat with a relief strong enough to burn. _Was my throat that badly injured? Again? _

Marlo had used this potion before, but only when he felt like listening to Harry speak or yell. "How are you feeling?" Marlo asked, face close to Harry's lips, inches away, the fake-appearing blue eyes staring deep into the green ones.

Harry decided to come out of his corner enough to answer, since he didn't want Marlo to hurt him. He swallowed, tasting a little blood with the remainder of the potion. "I can speak," he managed to say, voice weak and very rough. He was going to lose it again within seconds of Marlo torturing him.

Marlo smiled. "Are you planning on turning to the dark side soon? Our master needs your assistance."

Harry barely shook his head, seeing the mental wall. He managed to continue holding it up by saying, "No." _Being weak will only bring it down even faster. I like my sanity. I want to keep it. I want to be me._

It was Marlo's turn to shake his head. "My poor boy, do you really want to be my human punching bag?" Harry wondered why Marlo sounded disappointed.

"No, but anything I say or do won't help my situation and in a way yours you fucking fag."

Marlo's eyes darkened, Harry unbelieving of what he just said. He hadn't really spoken in the last month, and one of the first things out was a smartass comment? _What the hell am I thinking? I'm in deep shit now..._

"Would you like to say that again?"

_I'm going to be broken as _me, _not as someone they want me to be. Yes, I've been through all this pain, but I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself for going down as what they thought I was made into. _

Harry stared into Marlo's eyes, saying without a second thought, "You're a fucking fag that hides his pain behind his killings. You kill because no one ever saw you for what you really are. They couldn't understand you. You take your lust out on your victims to try to scare them more. It'd only be scary though if you were one hundred percent straight and raped someone than you just being gay. Do you follow?"

Harry could feel Marlo's magic rise, heating up his skin. "Silence, dog. You have said too many words. You're going to pay for the lies you have said—"

"No, I'm pretty sure they are all true, which is a little bit scary," Harry said, unable to look away from Marlo.

Marlo punched Harry in the stomach, face turning as dark as his eyes. "You need to shut your mouth, slave." Harry felt Marlo put his wand up to Harry's abdomen. "_Sectumsempra."_

Harry felt his eyes go wide as the cut split his chest. He could see Marlo's open eyes and smile before he could only see white. He couldn't feel his chest, but he could tell Marlo had moved away by the sound of his voice. "I want to see you bleed. I want you to pay for your words. _Sectumsempra_!"

Harry yelled which quickly turned to choking sounds. He felt face get slashed and knew the cut wasn't shallow. He was bleeding, and he was going to die... Finally, he was going to die. He wouldn't have to serve Voldemort, ever.

He heard the laughter calm down to more of a chuckling and the spell was said once more. Harry convulsed as the slash ripped through his already tormented body. "So much blood. So much blood, oh my god, so much blood! I can't handle it! The crimson warmth of one's life, splashing over me, the one who is alive, never dying..."

Uncontrolled laughter rang through the torture chamber once more as a grinding sound was added, Harry's hearing finally deciding to fade... He heard a scream, higher pitched..._Shanike? _yelling... He was moved, the pain flaring up once more. More yelling, partially in a worried voice...

"He's a strong one if he isn't dead yet," Harry heard, the words pushing against the mental wall.

_No, no, no... _He couldn't push back... He was done... Harry felt his mind sharpen, and felt the shield shatter, all of the pain crashing into him. He yelled, trying to move away from the probing hands. He could feel everything on and around him. His senses heightened, but then fell as he was taken not into darkness, but into a light gray. It was little nicer than the black, and it seemed to purify the pain he was put through.

_It's gone, it's gone, it's gone...It's all gone...finally..._

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well...i'm really really sorry about the delayed update...i'm a liar. It's okay, go ahead and call me a liar... in my defense i will say i haven't been home and this chapter had some really bad grammer mistakes and finals are here so lots of projects and swimming...and rawrg there's not enough time. I thought about ending the story here and then creating a new one...but nah, there'll be somemore chapters...hehe. I need to start working on this story again...damn. This and my covenant story. Except, it's harder for me to write depressing stuff since i'm always in such a happy mood. I'll try though. So. thanks for sticking with me this long and since winter break is here, hopefully i'll put something out soon...i'm praying i'll put something out soon. Thanks to all of you patient people who review. I love you all oh so much!!!! Thanks again!!! 


	27. One Last Tear

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A coppery smell stained Harry's nostrils, smell being one of his first senses to kick back in. The smell wasn't as strong as he thought it was, luckily. It was more of remaining smell that seemed to be permanently stuck on Harry or his memory.

The next sense to kick in soon was taste. It was bitter and almost made him gag. He could next feel his body, and he knew it was very sore and hurt at any movement. He thought there were soft cotton streets under and over him, but he figured that was a figment of his imagination.

_Where am I? _he wondered, afraid to open his eyes and look around. The sheets _did_ feel real, but, why would he be treated special all of a sudden? Was it how injured he was? _That's the only reasonable answer... Voldemort wouldn't treat me this special and the bed is softer than the one in my cell. _His body hurt too much. Each tiny throb was like a jackhammer pounding into a nerve. He wanted to be asleep. He'd _rather _be asleep and unfeeling the blossoming agony spreading quickly throughout him.

"I see you Harry," a voice said softly, sounding distant as Harry's ears and mind struggled to comprehend it. "I see your pain that you have been put through, I see your scars. I see your unshed tears and all of the blood you have left to spill. You poor, poor boy. It's a pity your mind was broken finally."

_That's right..._Harry remembered now. He remembered the mental wall shattering and all of the pain coming and attacking him. But what was different about him? He still hurt, could still think, speak probably, move... What was different? He wanted to open his eyes to see who was speaking to him, but he was afraid.

Harry tried to move, but the pain flared once more as a hand touched his shoulder. He tried to move away, afraid of what the person would do to him. "Don't move Harry," the male voice said again, still soft. "You're still greatly injured. The Dark Lord will probably come see you later today to see how you fare. Then we'll see what he wants to use you for."

"You don't know?" Harry croaked out, tears springing up into his eyes at how raw his throat was.

"No one knows. I'm one of his most trusted companions, and he hasn't even told me. If he hasn't told anyone yet, then I'm sure its something new he's never done before." There was a pause and Harry opened his eyes a little bit, the little amount of light in the room to much.

He saw the man leaning over him, and thought it was Snape. He was turned towards the door, and Harry could see another figure, but his vision was to blurry to make out who it really was. He heard a mutter of voices, and thought there was a second man was looking straight at Harry.

Harry didn't care though. He was in pain, he was weak, and he didn't know if he still had his magic. Well, he was sure he had his magic, but he wasn't sure if he could call it up, even after his maturing...

_That...that was how long ago? It feels like years. My past... It's just a blur. My friends...they're gone. My school is gone. My family...what family? Everyone is gone. I'm hurt, and the pain consumes my mind. If the pain ends here, maybe I'll stand a chance against _Him. _Maybe. I'll be able to remember. Otherwise...it'll all disappear. I know it. I don't want that to happen. Please, whoever, whatever, don't let me forget everything. _Harry turned his head to the side, and felt the tears fall. This time it wasn't out of pain, or at least any physical pain. If was the fear of losing who he was, what he meant to people. It was the emotional pain that no one could ever cause him except himself.

He felt a touch on his shoulder and flinched. The hand moved away, Harry slightly relaxing. "Harry, what's wrong?"

Such compassion...Shanike had shown him compassion, but it was used to torture him. This came from the heart. The person actually sounded like they cared for him. "I don't want to forget."

His voice was so rough and quiet, he was surprised the person—_Snape, it's Snape!—_was able to understand him. "Forget what?"

"Me. The past. My name." _My name. It's Harry. I can't forget it but I know I will. I barely remembered it until Snape said it. It doesn't even sound right... Has it been that long since someone has said it to me, that I've been aware of? Harry, Harry, Harry, my name is Harry... _

"Harry, I won't allow you to forget. You can't forget who you are, and there are still things you need to know. I'll return later today or tomorrow. I'll come with a pensieve and I'll keep the memories that you want. I'll keep it safe so no one but you can access it."

A hand ruffled his hair and he opened his eyes enough to see the figure begin to leave. "Please," Harry called, the figure stopping and turning around. "I don't want to be by myself."

_Snape, its Snape!_ stayed where he was before coming back to Harry. "I can't stay for long. I have to return to the school. I'll give you a potion though to ease your pain and help you heal."

He picked up a blue bottle and poured it into a small glass. He tipped it to Harry's lips, and at first Harry was reluctant until the person said, "I swear Harry, you can trust me. Please, drink this. You'll feel better."

Harry met the man's dark eyes with his beaten green ones, and opened his mouth enough to let the potion pour in. He swallowed, not tasting anything. It was sort of like water. He drank the rest of the small glass and just watched the man, unable to move, speak really any, and think too much... Harry realized he didn't want to know what he looked like. Muggle surgeries were amazing, and magic could fix so much more. But there was a limit to what it could do completely. Harry didn't want to see his scars, or what he looked like in general. He could see enough in the expression of Snape and know he looked horrible.

"I'm sorry my looks don't appeal to you," Harry said, voice a little stronger but sluggish.

The man shook his head. "It's not that. It's just that you're still alive by my actions. You will heal completely someday, but I don't know with how many scars. There will be the ones you have now, which isn't as many as there should be, and then there will be the scars that the Dark Lord will give you. He likes magic, and most magical scars are borderline impossible to remove. He will enjoy torturing you and seeing how much visible damage he can inflict upon you. He'll want to try to break you again in his own personal way, and it'll probably work.

"At that point you will lose your mind completely and do whatever he stays to not be punished. It's the same for everyone. If he beats you and does his little acts like he's done to others, it'll take between a week to two weeks before you completely submit to him. You're still a little defiant, but each hit breaks down that tolerance and eventually it will all go away. I'm sorry, but that's the truth of what will most likely happen."

Harry turned his head to the side, a wave of sleep crashing into him. The words that Snape had told him though kept him awake a little longer. He didn't want to be broken _again_. Then he'd be a mindless zombie, serving and being Voldemort's _dog_. _No. I can't let that happen. I just can't. _"Okay," was all he said before he allowed the sleep to come.

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Cold hands ran down Harry's face, petting him. Harry cringed at the touch, but there was no escaping it.

"You're such a pretty boy, Harry. Or, you were. You bear marks that show your captivity and punishment. You are my slave. Do you think you are able to escape? Ever?"'

Harry looked down at the ground like he was trained to do. "No, sir."

His master stared at him. "That's a good boy. You are learning your place well. I might have to reward you sometime soon. What would you like? Clothes, bedding, food, water...freedom?

Harry didn't know what to say. _Freedom...that'd be nice. I know it's a trick question... Or is it? What do I choose? _A hand was placed on his scar, causing Harry to yell. He fell to his knees, eyes watering as he was forced to look into his master's red eyes.

"What is your answer? Choose carefully."

"Bedding. I choose to have bedding," Harry gasped out.

"What did you say?"

Harry was shaking, his mind on fire, unable to think clearly. "P-pl-please sir, I choose to have bedding."

The hand was pulled away, Harry falling onto his side, breathing hard. "Out of all the options, you chose bedding. Why is that?"

Harry waited a moment before he was able to respond. "Clothes sir, will only be trashed again. Food, I will only throw up again during a training session. Water...I need that as well. Bedding though, I will be able to keep warm and restore my body the rest it needs."

"What about your freedom? Why didn't you choose that?"

Harry looked up, not at his master, but close. He chose to look at the ceiling as he felt a small trace of tears enter his eyes. "Because, even if you _did_ let me go, I don't know where I am. I don't know what the weather's like outside. I don't know if I'd find somewhere nearby where I could stay for a night or so. I...I'd probably end of dying."

"That's a good boy. You _would _die for your freedom. You're not in the right condition to go outside and try to make it. You _would _die. I'm glad you are able to realize that."

Harry stayed on his side, feeling hollow. He was trapped inside this building, forever abiding to Voldemort's rules...no...

_I'm glad you are realizing how helpless you are Potter, _a voice said, stirring Harry from his sleep. Harry's scar began to sting, slowly becoming worse. _You aren't even under my control yet, and already you're dreaming about what is going to happen._

Harry moved, feeling tears form at his eyes. _No...no...I'm not yours._

_Slave! _Voldemort yelled, Harry crying out in response, all of his muscles tightening. _You are _mine. _I've worked so hard to get you under my control, and now that you're here... I'm not letting you go. Now, rest up. You're going to need to continue healing for the next couple of days before I touch you._

Voldemort left Harry's mind, the boy feeling the tears come more from the pain of his scar. His dream... Were things really going to become that bad? Was he really that afraid of being Voldemort's servant? Yes, he was afraid of being the Dark Lord's personal pet, but even broken he was terrified.

_Rest, I need my rest, _Harry thought, trying to relax. He was able, luckily, and fell into a much needed sleep.

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A week later, Harry was being led down a hall, close to completely healed. He still hadn't seen a reflection of himself and he was happy with that. He was led by three Death Eaters, none of which he recognized. Snape had come in and taken the majority of his memories a couple of days earlier, which he was happy with. He had done some sort of spell and Harry guessed shifted through all of his memories and took the important ones. "You're missing a lot of your past," Snape noted when he was done. "I know Voldemort did it though. I kept a large amount of your memories, the good and the bad ones. They both make you who you are. When you are out of here for good, I will give them back to you."

He had left, and Harry hadn't seen him since. Now, he was finally seeing other parts of the castle he was entombed in. The dark stone was less than inviting and the torches were spread far apart, almost encasing pieces of the hall in darkness. He was a little afraid, but he figured this was the only amount of fear that remained. He had lost everything else. Hope, emotion, freedom, memories... Maybe Voldemort would only use physical abuse, and he would be allowed to heal mentally. Maybe...

"The Master's Chambers," a Death Eater to Harry's right said. They stopped, the guy who had spoken walking and knocking on the door. The door opened, Harry seeing a small man, little watery eyes and a little belly showing. "We have the slave."

The small man moved awayfrom the doorway at the simple command of, "Move Wormtail. We have guests."

Harry was shoved forward and grabbed by the back of his hair. "Move slave!"

Harry fell to his knees, his hair being let go. He was kicked into the room, only becoming aware of the pain but not crying out. When he was finally lifted up and thrown into the room, he knew he was fully in the room and where he needed to be. He lifted his head up and opened his eyes, seeing a lot of...people, he guessed, around the room. He saw the Dark Lord sitting in a high backed, dark red fabricated chair, his servant Wormtail standing right next to him.

Harry took a closer look back at the people. Something was off about them. Their faces were all sunk in, their eyes held some sort of depressing, dark life to them, and they all stood stone still. At first Harry didn't think they were breathing, but he could see little twitches of movement underneath their shirts to prove otherwise. There was just something about them that he didn't like, that he couldn't trust. They all stared at him with empty eyes, waiting to be commanded from the Dark Lord it seemed.

"Ah, my faithful little toy," Lord Voldemort said, rising out of his chair. Harry stayed on the ground, half curled, unable to put himself into a complete ball. "How are you today?"

Harry didn't respond. He didn't know what he should say. Voldemort only stared at him, beginning to draw his wand out. "Alive," Harry finally responded, flinching.

A pause, then, "I see this. I'll accept your answer until you learn of the proper way to answer me, though I do like alive." Voldemort began walking around Harry, who noticed more Death Eaters had entered the room. "My faithful followers, we have a newcomer among us. Most of you know him as, 'the Boy-Who-Lived'. Well, he will keep that title, as well as have a new meaning to it if he survives his time with us.

"He is going to be my little slave. None of you may touch him unless I say so. If you inflict harm onto him, I will cause the same, if not worse, onto you. And no, I am not favoring this boy. He is my slave, and whatever I do to him will be far worse than any of you have ever received. Any moment of rest he receives is valuable. You may all speak to him, but you may not command him to do tasks. Any command he receives is going to be straight from me. If any of you try to imposter me, or give him some sort of forgery, then you will be punished far worse than simply touching him. Removal from the position of Death Eater will be a nice dream.

"Those are the basic rules that all of you only need to know of. There are boundaries as to where he can and can't go, and he will know to not cross them. If he does, he will be punished, and if one of you causes him to cross it, you will be punished as well. I have waited long for this boy to come into my possession. Now that he's here... I will live for every moment because I know one day he will be rescued. Dumbledore has a tendency of playing the good guy who has to save everyone, including his favorite little student Harry Potter."

Harry looked up from the ground and up to Voldemort's chest. He didn't think he could force his eyes any higher. This was going to be the last, or first of very few times where Voldemort used his real name. Harry saw Voldemort move his hand and flinched. He closed his eyes as his face was drawn upward and a brief command of "Open your eyes," was given. Harry felt his heart begin to race and he slowly opened his eyes. He saw Voldemort gazing at his, and as soon as they were locked, Voldemort stuck his palm to Harry's forehead while the other hand was placed firmly under Harry's chin.

Harry tried to pull back as sudden pain flared in through his scar, but Voldemort's grip was stronger than Harry expected. Harry yelled, trying his best to get away from the pain. He didn't care how, just as long as it would stop. "What is my name, boy?" Voldemort asked, still holding tight.

"Lord Voldemort," Harry gasped, thoughts beginning to scatter from the consuming pain.

"Try again."

Harry let out a weak cry of pain, before managing, "Dark Lord?"

Voldemort laughed, a few of the Death Eater's following suit. "Oh my dear, dear boy. You're getting closer, but not close enough. Try again."

Harry yelled as Voldemort muttered something, the pain increasing to a blinding rush. The one thought that went through his mind was one he managed to whisper, without thinking of the meaning. "Master!"

Harry didn't realize the hands had released him, but he did notice falling and hitting the cold stone floor. He laid there, breathing hard, allowing the coldness to take the pain away. It was winter still, he was pretty sure, so the coldness would be refreshing for a few more months. But, he had no one. Snape... How long would Harry remember about him? Snape would probably become lost like the rest of his memories to all of the pain. Voldemort seemed to have fun taking things from Harry's life, and now had simply removed _Harry_ from his life.

"You did good, coming up with the answer that fast. You didn't try anything that was a smartass response, and you only wanted to avoid the pain. You did wonderful, my pet. I still have to come up with a name for you. Something that is quite perfect. I will think about it later when I have time to myself. Now. Time for the second part of your learning. Shanike?"

Harry opened his eyes, seeing Shanike near the door. She stood up, picking something up from beside her. It was a red pillow, looking like something royalty would own. On top of the pillow...Harry was pretty sure it was his worst nightmare. It was a collar, the leash coiled neatly besides it. Shanike brought the pillow to Voldemort, and then bent down to one knee, Voldemort removing the collar and leash. The collar was a gorgeous forest green, reminding Harry of the Slytherin color, yet a little on the brighter side. Bordering the edges was silver thread, symbols lining the entire thing in golden-yellow thread. Harry could see on the underside random pieces of glass slim as needles sticking out in random directions. The longest was probably only a centimeter long, but with all of those sticking into his neck? He was going to bleed to death for sure.

Harry forced himself to look away from the thing that was supposed to go onto his neck to the thing that was going to be attached to his collar. The leash looked a little different. It was black, with silver bordering the edge. In the golden-yellow thread, similar looking symbols traced all the way down to the where it was supposed to attach to the collar. Voldemort carefully held it all, making them look like something that was supposed to be valued and not bloodied up. "What are these symbols?"

"They are symbols used by wizards in the olden days to mark an owner and slave. Wizards used to make the leash, and once they found a prisoner that needed a collar, then that was made and placed upon the person to ensure that they would never leave. Once that colllar is placed on Harry and you attach the leash, he is yours. Only you can remove the leash, and Harry will be able to remove the collar. He can't touch the leash and you can't touch the collar. The leash can extend to any length that you prefer, and the width can vary as well. Just rub your wand across it whichever direction."

Voldemort smiled as Harry paled. He was to put the collar on himself, and he wasn't ever able to remove the leash? What was happening? There was no way Dumbledore could get him out of this. _Was _Dumbledore even coming up with a plan to get him out of here? What about Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna? What were they up to?

Harry felt alone for once. He missed his friends, and he knew there was nothing that could save him. Voldemort and Shanike had made sure of that. Harry saw Voldemort pull the wand he was currently using out and point it at Harry while Shanike handed the collar to the teen. "If you don't put that on, you are going to be receiving more torment than with that collar on. Would you care for a taste?"

Harry shook his head and looked at the collar. He swallowed, wishing he had enough tears to cry. But that would be what Voldemort wanted, and he didn't think he could even shed a tear. Hands shaking and a poke from the wand, Harry slowly moved towards the torture device. He finally touched the green leather and felt whatever remaining humanity in him leave. He was an animal now, serving others. He just held his imprisonment in his hands, looking past the short glass needles. He was tying himself to the Dark Lord and he couldn't get out of it. Could he? He still had his magic... He didn't need a want to direct his magic since he completed his powers. He looked around the room, then at Voldemort.

"Move faster boy, or I'll help you."

Harry just looked at him, wondering if there was any spell he could do and get out. _Don't try any spells boy. I'm still in your mind. I can read your thoughts and actions any time I want. I like this sort of leash more than anything else. I can get so much more out of it. _

Harry had forgotten that Voldemort could still get into his head. He looked back at the collar in his hands and slowly brought it up to his neck. He noticed there were gaps for his veins, and some other important neck parts that probably shouldn't be severed. Shanike came over and helped him place it correctly, Harry then pushing the needles in just enough to strap the collar at the front of his neck. He tried to put it on the loosest setting but Voldemort pushed his wand harder against Harry's temple and said "Tighter."

Harry did as he was told, and at each new hole was told "Tighter." At the last hole to tighten the collar, the needles were completely in his neck and he could feel the blood coming out and sliding against the leather. He put his hands onto his knees and looked at the ground, shaking. He felt a single tear fall out of his eye and land on the ground in front of him. Voices rang out around him, most laughing.

Harry continued starring at where his tear landed and knew that was the last tear he would be able to ever give. He felt a hand rub the back of his head and down to the back of his neck, just resting below the collar. "That's a good boy. A trial now to see just how well it works. _Crucio."_

Harry ripped his neck back, the needles doing their job well. They stayed in place while he moved his neck to get the pain to disappear. He yelled, muscles tightening, his body having spasms across the floor. He felt the spell lift, his body loosening at once, Harry feeling the blood rush out of his neck. He was breathing hard and heard Voldemort say, "Excellent. Shanike, the collar is magnificent."

"Thank you master. I have aligned the glass perfectly so they won't sever anything important like the jugular or his voice box. He will only bleed and hurt himself, but he can't kill himself. He'd have to shift the collar fast enough to cause and real damage. If you, master, pull on the leash too hard, you have a good chance of pulling the glass in deeper and harming something. They are only a centimeter long, but any longer and deeper, a single move can become life-threatening."

There was silence, Harry taking advantage of the situation to just lay on the ground and recover though he wanted to attempt to take the collar off. "I am not stupid, Shanike," Voldemort finally said, sounding a little annoyed. "I am glad you're telling me this since this is your creation, but I plan to only use him for certain things. He will only be punished when he does something against the rules. I do not plan on causing any life-threatening harm unless something occurs where I must." Voldemort paused, Harry keeping his eyes shut.

"Now everyone, the show is over. You may all leave. I will call you once more for a certain discussion, but I would like to show my pet to his quarters. Now, carry on."

Voices picked up and there was a shuffling of feet. Harry was kicked in the side, causing him to open his eyes and look up at Voldemort. "Up," he commanded, Harry obeying. He stood, slowly, then looked at the ground. Voldemort moved closer and attached the leash before pulling on it to test it. "Follow," he said, beginning to walk, though pausing next to Shanike. "You may head to the chambers. We have a new victim I'm sure you'll like."

Voldemort began moving again, Harry close behind like a dog. They went out of the room and down a hall, Harry not paying attention though he knew he should, just in case. His neck was really hurting and he just wanted food and something to sleep on. He was stopped in front of a room, Voldemort turning to him and saying, "This is where you are going to stay. These are my quarters, but a small corner has been donated to you. Welcome to your new life."

Harry paled as he was led into his new version of Hell.

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So...Ummm...okay, you guys may all punish me as you wish, though i did finally update. I've had the chapter written for a little while, but i've been really slow on typing it up. I'm really REALLY sorry. The next chapter should be cooler, cus it's back at the school with Dumbledore and stuff...part of it is already typed up which is nice...so yeah. I'll start working on it more hopefully soon. Hehe. Welll...ummm...yeah. School kicks back in full force monday, but i have second hour off, so it'll be my study hall and writing time. :P I hope...oh well. So here's chapter 27 finally, and i'm really sorry it took so long. Really, i'm really really sorry. And sorry if you don't enjoy it as much...the next chapter will hopefully be cool. And yeah. I love all of you who still read, and those of you who review!!! I feel uber loved, and it's a little more motivation to update...hehe. bad me. I love you all, and i hope you like!

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Xx.Fma-DNangel.xX reply:::  
hehe, k, i'm replying in an authors note. XD not normally something i'd do but i'll do whatever to have my readers happy. Yeah, the skeleton things are back. It's just that Harry was being tortured and everything so he didn't know what was going on with the skeletons. I'm trying to make this a harry pov story as much as possible, but yeah, doesn't always work out. And yeah, trust me, Harry wants to escape, but he doesn't know how to apporate and disapporate or anything, and yes, he still can use his wandless magic, but he's just a stuck and under a watchful eye. I'm sorry you're not quite happy with what you've read, but you're not the only one. :P hehe. Harry's going to be rescued, don't worry, but you'll have to wait and see how. I'm...still debating on how as well, but you'll see. Yeah. I hope you get to read this chapter, and thanks for your review!!!!


	28. Pain of the Lost

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Dumbledore folded his hands, resting them on his desk. He looked at the fading sun, wishing Snape would hurry up. The potions master was currently at Voldemort's hiding place in a meeting about Harry. It had been about two months since the boy's disappearance, and still nothing had been done. He himself had been finding information about Horcruxes and how to defeat Voldemort. He wished to tell Harry about everything since he was slowly dying and didn't know exactly how much time he had left. Even if Harry was here, he would need to catch up on a lot of information that Dumbledore had found. And it still wasn't enough time.

Dumbledore turned from the window as his fire lit up green, Snape stepping out. Dumbledore stood, the potions master dusting himself off. "Sorry headmaster. The meeting ran long."

"It is quite all right Severus. Is there any new information?"

Snape nodded. "Yes, and it's not good. The Dark Lord collared Harry today and performed the Cruciatus curse on him to test out how well the collar worked. It tore his neck up, but with how it was made, it isn't supposed to cause any serious damage."

Dumbledore nodded once, thinking. "Did he show any emotion?"

Snape shook his head. "No. Not even as he put the collar on."

Dumbledore was brought out of his thoughts. "He placed the collar on himself?"

Snape nodded. "He had to. He looked like he was thinking about something while he was holding it, but then he just put it on and dug each of the glass shards into his neck. Once it was on completely, he looked down and I saw one tear fall, but that was it. This was one of the most horrid things I've ever seen. The boy is lost, Albus. I don't know how we're going to get his heart back."

Dumbledore remembered the pensieve that Snape had showed him. Some of the memories from Harry's torturing sessions had left him feeling sick and weak. And yet the boy was still alive. He _was_ strong, and maybe he could last until Dumbledore was able to save him. Only, Snape couldn't tell Dumbledore where he was hiding in any way otherwise a spell would activate and kill Snape. Dumbledore had been slowly unraveling it, but until it was completely off, there was nothing he could really do.

"Describe the collar, please."

Snape nodded. "It was a dark green, but a little lighter than a forest green. On the inside were glass shards a centimeter long the torturer said, but they were thin as needles, all sticking out in random directions. She said she had angled and lengthened them perfectly so Harry couldn't kill himself unless he seriously tried to or Voldemort pulled back hard enough on the leash."

"Were there any designs on the collar and leash?"

Snape nodded. "Yes, there were some."

"All along the collar and leash or in simple parts?"

"All along it."

"She's used the Prisoner's Spell then."

Snape just looked at Dumbledore, masking his face. "She said something about a spell that was from the old wizards, showing an owner and its prisoner or slave."

Dumbledore nodded. "It's indeed a very old spell. It was made by what are the Russians today. Italians learned of the spell as well, though they had a different style. They created gaps between the symbols while the Russians covered the entire length. Once the prisoner has put the collar on, they are only able to remove it. Once the leash has been attached, the collar can only be removed after the leash has been taken off by the proper owner. Sometimes the owner will have another remove the leash, but often times the prisoner will be forced to try to remove the leash to help show that the prisoner or slave is forever trapped."

"What happens if Harry removes the leash and then the collar?"

Dumbledore tried to remember. "What was the color of the thread?"

Snape paused. "Golden-yellow."

Dumbledore closed his eyes, remembering the book and then finding the specific page number. "Golden-yellow, golden-yellow... It's one of the more dangerous punishments. If Harry tries to remove the collar without Voldemort removing the leash, then he will slowly begin to suffocate until he places the collar back on correctly. If he doesn't place the collar on until how it was exactly placed before, the puncture wounds from the collar may never stop bleeding. The spell varies with each collar, but I am almost positive that that is the punishment for taking off the collar, and the motivation to place it back on correctly."

Snape was silent. "And the color of the thread represents something different?"

"Yes. Generally, the lighter colors are worse than the darker colors, and there are only thirteen to choose from. Automatic death is white, while black is just a slow numbness, and teal is an electrocution feeling with shakiness."

Dumbledore watched Snape sit quietly in front of him, then saw him sigh. "We need to get the boy out of there as quickly as possible. He's not going to survive, or at least his mind isn't. Albus, students are questioning where he and you are. Then they question even more when you're here and Harry is not. We need to get that boy back. It'll be better for all of us."

Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his eyes with his good hand. "I know, I know. The spell is slowly coming off of you, and luckily there are only a few more strands to fight through. As soon as it's unraveled I will create a well thought out plan to get Harry out of there. I don't want him there just as much as you, Severus. How long do you think we will have?"

"Until he cracks again? The Dark Lord said something about only punishing Harry when he needed to be punished, but I give Harry four or five days. His thoughts and actions are far different from those of his torturers. Harry lasted a fairly long time with his one torturer, but he's used to her style. Once the Dark Lord begins his fun, Harry will break completely, and I don't know if we will ever be able to get him back."

Dumbledore simply nodded. "I see, and I cannot allow that to happen. I need Harry to be able to function and able to help me defeat Lord Voldemort."

Snape's eyes widened. "Albus, your hand though. You only have a few more months, at the least—"

"Severus, we have had this discussion before, and I am hoping that I don't have to repeat anything." Dumbledore's voice became hard, blue eyes locking in with the man's dark eyes across from him.

Snape nodded, saying, "Yes sir, I remember. You can have a strong faith in me."

Dumbledore nodded. "Good, good. Now, shall we begin working on the spell before the sun comes up?"

Snape looked at the window, then back at the headmaster. "Are you going to be able tonight, do you think?"

"I hope so. Once the sun rises the spell will be hard to see, and I don't want to risk pulling the wrong weave." Dumbledore walked around his desk, Snape standing up and joining him in the center of the suddenly expanded room. Snape didn't see or feel the floor move, and wondered about all of the little secrets of the room. Maybe one of these days he'd be able to learn all of them.

_Ha, yeah right. I'll become headmaster as soon as Dumbledore becomes Minister of Magic._

Dumbledore took out his wand and pointed it at Snape. "_Praesto Abconditus Veneficus,"_ he said, Snape feeling warm. He closed his eyes, soaking in the warmth. When he opened his eyes, he saw all of the remaining golden weavings of the spell, Dumbledore beginning his walk around Snape. "Let the games begin," he muttered, Snape mentally agreeing.

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Ron woke up slowly, taking his time. When he was fully awake, he looked to the bed next to him and saw that his long time best friend was still not there. He sighed and got out of bed, throwing on his normal robes. Today was going to be like any other, if not worse. Boring and lonely.

He thought back to the last two months. Lavender Brown had tried to hook up with him right after he had returned to school, but he didn't think she really liked him. At the time she asked him out, he wasn't in his right mind, so he agreed. The relationship lasted about a month, when he caught sight of Hermione's jealousy. They needed their friendship; not some girl who only want action and separating them.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had been acting strangely as well. At first, Malfoy acted smug and tormented the two friends about Harry, and how they didn't know what was happening to him. About the same time that Ron broke it off with Lavender, Malfoy quit the talking and left the two alone. Whenever Malfoy was near them and had to say something, it was directed in a nicer manner. Hermione tried to question the three Slytherins about what had happened, but they just kept their mouth shut and shook their heads.

Ron noticed Hermione had also been acting strangely as well. She was even quieter, like back in their first year when they barely knew each other. At first he thought she had a crush on Harry and now she was lost, but his thoughts changed when he and Lavender began dating. He tried talking to her, and she finally broke down on his shoulder, telling him that she wished they could help Harry, and whatever was happening wasn't good since Malfoy quit talking about Harry.

Ginny was also silent as well, moping around, eyes watering up at any mention of Harry. Ron thought it was similar to Hermione: She was a girl, and Harry was like another older brother, who had been wrenched out of their lives. She was often quiet and Ron saw her reading a lot more. Ron tried his best to cheer her up, but as far as he could tell, nothing worked.

Everyday was long and boring, teachers not helping anything by ignoring the fact that Harry had disappeared, as well as Dumbledore often times. One day, after Harry had been gone for two months, Malfoy crossed them in the hall, tripping Hermione on his way by. Ron saw it, calling Malfoy out. "Malfoy! Apologize for tripping Hermione!"

Malfoy stopped, smirking as Crabbe and Goyle flanked him. "Oh, sorry Granger, didn't see you there. It's easier to spot you when Potter's with you. That way I know to clear the path of your mudblood stench."

Ron had one hand on Hermione's arm, the other going for his wand as Hermione's face began to show anger. "I've already told you this before, Malfoy," Ron said, wand tight in his grip. "Don't. Call. Her. That."

"What? A mudblood? It's true though, and the last time you tried to do something about me calling her that your wand backfired. Remember?"

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle began laughing, Ron's anger soaring. "Quit your talking Malfoy. My wand's not broken this time. I might be able to even turn you into a ferret and bounce you around the halls."

Malfoy's face slightly paled, but he still managed to say, "That wasn't even the real Moody. He only did that to turn you three onto his side."

Ron shrugged. "Even so, you make an excellent looking pet."

Hermione began tugging on Ron's sleeve as Malfoy's face darkened. "Ron, just leave him alone. We're on edge, and you don't need to pick a fight with that scum. Let's go."

"Yes Ronnie, listen to the hag and leave. But, if you do, you won't find out what happened to the other wheel in your party. You know, the Dark Lord's personal pet."

Ron and Hermione froze, Malfoy looking around. People were still moving around, heading to the classes they were about to be late to. No teachers though, which is what the little confronted groups wanted. "What are you getting at?" Hermione asked quietly. She took a step forward, meeting grey eyes. Ron took a step forward as well, not breaking the look he had on the other teen's face.

Malfoy seemed to get off his high horse as well. After taking another glance around and convinced no one was around, he said, "There's no getting him back. He serves the Dark Lord now."

The blonde then turned, his goonies following close behind. Ron looked at Hermione, whose eyes were watering up. "No..." she breathed out.

"We better get to class before we get any curious stares," Ron said silently, Hermione nodding simply.

They walked to Transfiguration, Hermione still in open shock. "I can't believe it," she said softly as they were coming up to the room. "It's obvious who _he _is. Harry...he's finally Voldemort's now... It can't be. He's strong. He has a purpose and that has to be driving him on."

Ron just nodded. He didn't know how long he would be able to survive in Harry's position. Yeah, he knew he wasn't as strong as Harry, but Hermione was being optimistic and Ron was being realistic. "We'll figure out a way to help him. I know we will."

Hermione nodded once more as they entered the classroom. _Malfoy wasn't even that happy about Harry, _Ron thought, Malfoy's almost apologetic look sticking in his head. _Harry will need help for sure with getting out, but we managed to get in and out of the Department of Mysteries last year, so this can't be much worse. He can be saved, I know it._

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Snape sat at his desk, wondering what was going to happen. Dumbledore had managed to get the spell off of him and now knew where Voldemort's hiding place was. When the old man was going to take action though was the question. Snape didn't know also why Dumbledore had asked him twice already about the castle. If he was actually going to try and get the boy out, then he was going to need Snape's help. If he didn't begin explaining anything soon... Snape didn't want to be angry at the headmaster, but if Dumbledore didn't begin telling what he was planning...

Snape heard a golden voice more in his mind than ear and looked around. He didn't see Fawkes, but he was sure that was the voice of the Phoenix. _Dumbledore's calling me again... If it's for anymore details on where Voldemort is hiding... This better be worth it._

Snape left his dungeon's and walked to the Headmaster's office, not in a dire rush. He walked calmly, glaring at any students that came across his path. He came to the stone gargoyles, which asked, "Password?"

"Licorice Fizz," Snape replied calmly, the gargoyles jumping to the side and bowing.

He walked onto the rotating staircase, patiently waiting to hear what Dumbledore wanted to drill out of him next since he had been able to remove the spell Voldemort placed around him completely. At the top of the stairs, Snape entered Dumbledore's room, the old man sitting behind his desk, the black hand of death contrasting with the white hand of life grotesquely in the afternoon sunlight. Snape stood in front of Dumbledore, hands folded behind his back, waiting patiently while the blue eyes examined him. "Good afternoon Headmaster."

"Good afternoon Professor. You have probably guessed why I have called you here?"

"To try to drain me of anymore information of the Dark Lord's hideout that you haven't learned yet?"

"Not quite exactly, but I suppose on your end that is how it feels." Snape made grunting sound. "My plan cannot work and be placed into action if we do not have all of the details. So, please, once more bear with me." Snape nodded, sighing. "Lord Voldemort has a castle in the northern part of Scotland, correct?"

"Correct."

"But you are not sure where?"

Snape sighed, trying to remember. "It's in the highlands, I believe, or on one of the islands around the highlands."

Dumbledore simply nodded. "And you have told me every detail of the room Harry is staying in with Voldemort?"

"Yes, every last detail."

"And he is never allowed off of his leash as far as you have seen?"

"Correct."

Dumbledore remained calm and quiet, Snape already having answered these questions before, except where he thought the castle was exactly. "Have you seen Harry tortured besides from when Voldemort placed the collar on him?"

"No, though I saw him last night after a torturing session."

"And?"

Snape looked straight into Dumbledore's eyes, telling him with his soul that he didn't want to answer that question. "Details are nothing, Albus. It's the fact and picture that scars one's mind."

Dumbledore simply nodded once more. "I understand. I, too, wish to end all of the boy's pain."

Snape's anger spiked. "You _wish_ to end the boy's pain? Harry is the _Boy-Who-Lived._ If you think he's going to come out of this squeaky-clean and unscathed, ready to jump into battle again, you are wrong Albus. You can never end all of the boy's pain. If he has been happy in any time of his life, it was before Lily and James died."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, he has been happy since he has come to Hogwarts. His relatives house, I understand was a mistake, but he had to be placed there. Once he has come to Hogwarts and met his friends, Harry has been happy."

"What about thinking he is going to be just fine after you take him out of the Dark Lord's grip?"

"I understand he will not be perfect—"

"The boy was never perfect to begin with, with James as his father," Snape slipped in.

"—but we will be able to help him and no matter what he has to continue with his journey I have begun for him."

"And what journey is that Professor?"

"You will find out if I think it is necessary."

With that the two wizards stared at each other, Snape fighting to control his anger while Dumbledore remained calm, if even a little sad. "Severus, please keep as close to Voldemort as you can. I need someone who is within my contacts that I can trust to tell me what is going on with Voldemort. I'm aware I need to get Harry out of there as soon as is humanly possible without causing a scene. Whenever you can, go to Voldemort's hiding place. If you need to miss your classes, I'm sure the students would love having me as a teacher, providing I am within the building."

Snape nodded once, placing his hands in front of him. "I trust whatever you're doing is something worthwhile that's not going to end up backfiring?" Snape looked at Dumbledore's blackened hand obviously before meeting the sky-lit pools.

"What I am doing will help benefit everyone in the end. I only wish I had begun this earlier."

Snape took Dumbledore's silence as a case of dismissal. He gave a short bow and left the room, heading onto the rotating stairway, letting his thoughts drift. He didn't know how he was going to receive specific reports on Harry now that the Dark Lord had a firm grip on the boy. Unless he asked if he could be some sort of personal medic... But would it look suspicious if he didn't have any problem showing up to the Dark Lord's hideout all of sudden, when at first he wasn't sure since it clashed with his time at the school?

Snape shook his head as he stepped off of the stairs. He would figure something out. He had managed before. He paid attention to where he was heading, ignoring all of the kids who were heading towards their classes like well trained gerbils. He had this hour off, so he was able to take some time to plan. As he reached his office, he opened the door and found someone already there. Before the other man was aware Snape was in the room, Snape had his wand out and a spell on the tip of his tongue when the man turned, jumping back as his eyes landed on Snape's wand. "Mmmaster Snape," the man began, placing his hands in front of himself defensively.

"Who are you?" Snape asked powerfully, unrecognizing the man. He was young, tall, built fairly well, brown hair, brown eyes, Scottish accent, fear wrapping its hold on his body tightly.

"I-I-I'm Travis Jones. I'm new."

"I could tell." Snape lowered his arm a little, though kept his intimidation level high. _He must be one of the Dark Lord's new bitches. We were all there at one point or another. _"Why are you here?"

"Th-the Dark Lord sent me. He has a personal request that y-you must attend to now."

Snape looked at his clock. "I have one hour before I have to come back to the school. I do still have a reason to be at this school and I would hate for Dumbledore to become suspicious of my absence."

Snape kept his cool glare on the new guy, who nodded vigorously. "Of, of course sir. You'll be back in plenty of time."

Snape gave a careful nod as the man pulled a bag of Floo powder out of his pocket. "Black Lab, Scotland!"

The fire flashed green, Jones' stepping in and rushing off. Snape followed soon after and landed smoothly on the other side, compared to Jones, who was getting up off of his knees. _Yes, definitely new in this field. _As soon as Jones was up he showed Snape up to the Dark Lord's office, Snape entering alone. The doors shut behind him and the master of the mind was in front of him, smiling coolly. "Ah Severus, you came."

"Of course my master," Snape said, getting down onto a knee, bowing his head as low as he could. "I'm sorry but we may have to keep this short. I have a class to teach in an hour and I would hate to be later than the students and give Dumbledore any reason to question my faith."

His master gave him a questioning look. "Has Dumbledore been questioning his faith in you?"

"No sir, but I wouldn't like to give him a reason to begin questioning it."

"True. This shouldn't be very long. I just wanted to see your view on the collaring of Harry Potter."

Snape lost all emotion to his confusion. "Pardon, sir?" _He wants to see my view on it? What?_

"I just want to see if you believe Potter should be collared like a dog."

Snape forced a smirk. "Of course, my master. The collar is a very creative punishment that not many know about."

The Dark Lord nodded. "Yes, that's what I thought as well. Would you Severus, be honored to place the Cruciatus Curse on Potter to see how effective the collar is?"

Snape could feel himself freeze on the inside. "Yes, master, I would be honored," he managed to say steadily.

"Good. Now please, don't hold back. Feel free to go as far as you want, though not to death."

Snape nodded. His master waved the wand he was using and a door slid open, revealing Harry, who was unconscious. The boy's t-shirt and pants were already torn and bloodied beyond repair, his skin an unhealthy white.

"_Enervate," _the Dark Lord said, Harry's eyes fluttering open. He took one look at Snape, and seemed to be pleading for freedom for a second, before a dead look entered. Snape's sorrow fought to come out. "Now, Severus, please don't hold back."

Snape steeled himself, pointed his wand at the trapped boy, and clearly said, "_Crucio."_

Harry's body gave a sort of spasm, before any noise came out. Soon a scream was issued, and Snape noticed it was a different sort of scream than he had heard from other torturing periods of Harry. There's weren't any emotion in it, and it was softer. It was the sound of pure pain, a sound Snape had never heard before and never wanted to hear again. He finally released the spell, Harry's screams fading off almost instantly. Soon breathless panting was the only sound throughout the room.

"Very nicely done. There are other spells you may do to him as well, if you wish. You are holding my amusement quite nicely."

Snape could almost hear the smile that was coating his master's words. He nodded, thinking. He needed to please the Dark Lord, but not harm Harry too much... _"Petrificus Totalus," _he said, Harry becoming still. He next muttered, _"Postulo Ventus." _Sharp needles sliced Harry where he was, Snape seeing the boy shut his eyes tightly. Despite how things looked, the full body-bind spell actually helped prevent Harry from the worst of the needles, yet cause enough blood to show the Dark Lord that Snape wasn't afraid of hurting Harry.

Snape released the body-bind spell, Harry relaxing for a moment before beginning to shake. Snape saw the Dark Lord grinning and give a nod of approval. "Nicely done. You may leave. I'm sure the school would enjoy your presence."

Snape nodded and turned, ignoring the compelling feeling of looking back at the broken boy. He left the room and walked back to the black lab, flooing back to Hogwarts, feelings guilty with what he had done. And he had the boy's two best friends in his next class. This wasn't going to be easy.

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Harry just laid on the ground, shaking. Snape...he thought he could trust the man. Snape had always been there to heal him, to make sure he survived, to reassure him that help would be on the way and he only needed to hold on...

_What am I going to do now? _

Harry just continued to shake, not wanting Voldemort to look into his head. What was he going to do now that his savior was going to come and torture him? Was Snape going to come and place all of the pain back into Harry that he had taken away?

Harry remained rather calm, though he thought he should also be shaking with fear. But, there was nothing left to be afraid of. Voldemort was going to kill him, and he was going to be put through as much torment as possible. Harry felt the pain ripping through his mind, and he felt it traveling through his body as well. His body was beginning to stop working from all the torture and lack of food and water. He was weak and tired. If he was lucky though, he figured that the stress would kill him faster than Voldemort.

Harry heard footsteps coming in his direction and risked a look up. He looked up to Voldemort's chest, and couldn't force to himself to go any higher, though Voldemort liked how Harry couldn't look eye-to-eye.

"I can see how worn out you are. I suppose I must take you back to your section and allow you to heal. I prefer you to heal on your own...It'll take longer, but you'll have more vivid scars."

Voldemort attached the leash onto Harry and lengthened it. Harry moved as soon as Voldemort did, and could feel the blood still draining out of his body. He didn't know how he was supposed to sleep without passing out first. He could barely manage moving with the collar; every little shift he made caused the glass to tear at his neck and cause him to bleed. If he put pressure on it, it only dug deeper into his neck. But, since his neck was already numb with pain, maybe he would be able to simply lay down and pass out and the pain wouldn't bother him... That would be nice.

Voldemort opened the door to their room and shoved Harry through. Harry fell, the leash catching at it's "full" length and choking as well as stabbing Harry. Voldemort chuckled and let go of the leash. "One final thing. Take the leash off."

Harry only looked at Voldemort, knowing the consequences. Voldemort had already made Harry take the leash off and attempt to take the collar off as well, and didn't want to do it again. Why did his memory need to be refreshed? Voldemort kneed Harry in the jaw, knocking Harry onto his back, mouth burning, head spinning. "Now sit up and do what I asked. Don't make me repeat myself."

Harry managed to sit back up, but he had the best grip on the floor that was possible so he didn't fall back down. When he was convinced he wasn't going to throw up or not fall back over, he slowly went for the leash. Voldemort had made Harry take it off one other time, and even then he didn't want to do it. Harry stared at the ground, like the last time, and slowly felt for the latch of the leash. When he unhooked it from his neck, he felt the same burning ring around the collar.

"Now, remove the collar."

Harry, beginning to shake, reached and slowly unhooked the collar, the burning becoming worse. He pulled out the first piece of glass and blood spilled down his neck like a dam had been broken. Almost one by one he pulled the glass pieces out of his neck, the blood draining out of him, his neck feeling like fire was being poured along it. He had his eyes clenched shut, teeth tight, and tremors slowly racking his body.

"Stop." Harry stopped pulling the collar out, breathing hard. "Do you see what will happen if you try to escape?"

"Yes master," Harry breathed out.

"Good. You may put the collar on, then go clean yourself up."

Voldemort watched Harry replace the collar on carefully; Harry learned after the first time that if he didn't place the glass back into their original holes that his neck would continue to bleed. Finally, when he buckled the collar and replaced the leash, the fire went out and Harry felt how dizzy and sick he was, as well as emotionally numb. "Go clean yourself up," Voldemort said, removing the leash and blasting Harry in the head with his wand as he left the room.

Harry heard himself yell as his vision darkened. His head felt like a semi had crashed into it, driving full speed. He slowed his breathing down, and allowed himself a whimper of pain. He opened his eyes, his vision blurry. He reached around and felt for his glasses, finding them almost an arms length away from his head, still in one piece. Voldemort liked Harry to see fully what was going on around him, so the Dark Lord often repaired the glasses. Harry didn't trust himself to stand, so he crawled over to Voldemort's bathroom, trying not to leave a huge bloody mess around him since he'd have to clean it up later.

Harry reached the granite bathroom and stood up slowly. His vision swayed, but he grabbed onto the sink for support. He looked into the mirror and almost didn't recognize himself. He was bruised, eyes a dark green, and his hair was still messy, but now with bits of blood and dirt mixed in. In general, he looked beaten and worn out. He sure as hell felt that way.

He turned away from his reflection and walked towards the shower. He turned on the warm water and stripped off his rags. Voldemort allowed him to shower and clean himself off sometimes, though the dirtier and bloodier Harry was seemed to excite Voldemort. But, Harry needed to look decent at times for those who came to visit Voldemort. Of course Harry didn't sit in very often and listen to whatever the discussion was about, but afterwards Voldemort usually allowed the visitor to torture Harry for a little while, and if the visitor could see how much damage they did, they were more likely to come back. And usually they did.

Harry gently went under the flow of water and let out a small hiss, though his body screamed under the pain of the heat on his cuts. He could feel his neck wounds reopen and begin bleeding again, as well as any other fresh cuts surrounding his body, which were quite a few. Harry slid onto the floor, the water and blood washing off of him. He was cleansing himself, almost. Of what, he wasn't quite sure, but he didn't really care. Just sitting there, under the water, it felt...good. But why did it feel good? He couldn't remember.

The pain had been taking away a lot of his memories, and Snape, Voldemort, and Bellatrix Lestrange were about the only people he could recall on the spot. And Wormtail too he supposed, though the man didn't actually do much to him. He couldn't recall much of his former, free life, except for random times like these where he was able to sit and rest.

Harry knew though that he needed to clean himself and get out. Voldemort would be mad at him if he allowed himself a lot of time to rest and actually relax. Harry pushed himself off of the floor slowly and grabbed the shampoo, washing all of the dirt and blood out that he could get. He cleaned his body, then repeated the process for good measure. He left the safety of the warmth and stepped out, grabbing his towel. He dried off, then replaced his rags. Once out of the bathroom, he headed towards his little corner—it consisted of a cot (which he was lucky enough to receive), two blankets, a pillow, and two other pairs of clothes.

He laid down, pulling the blankets over him and fell asleep, hoping to be able to get a decent amount before Voldemort decided Harry was being treated special and had to be tortured some more. He slipped away quickly, semi-peaceful for once, his neck barely hurting.

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Oh wow...hi there everyone...i swear i'm not dead...and i'm sending out a million apologies to not updating. My main reviewer didn't review, so i apologize...i didn't really have much motivation to update, as well as school, friends, swimming, parents, homework and other stuff has been weighing me down. The last few weeks have been fricken crazy and now with swimming out of the picture...i'm really hoping that i'll have a lot more time to write. And happy 100 reviews (though i'm really hoping to achieve that this chapter...) so yeah...i'm really really REALLY sorry i haven't updated in over a month. Trust me, it really hurts inside cus i hate it when authors do it...and...oh look, i'm doing it myself. I'm really sorry. I hope i still have my valuable readers and reviewers, and if you comment, i'll reply!!! even if you yell at me telling me how much i suck as a writer and how i'm ignoring you i'll still reply... so yeah i have ch. 29 started, and i think i have a place to go with it...so yeah. hopefully you guys all enjoyed this chapter and i'll try to update asap!!!! LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!!!!!! ...and techno music is awesome...hehehe : )


	29. Making Progress in the Wrong Light

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He looked down on the little boy, _willing_ him to give up his toy. It wasn't as easy as it had been with the rabbit, but he just wanted the boy to give him the toy; not to die. He focused his brown eyes even more into the scared blue ones and said, "Thomas, give me the toy."

And of course the boy _had_ to have the same name as him. But he had arrived at the orphanage first, so _he_ was able be called Tom and not Thomas. He did like drawing out the name Thomas though. He could make it sound dirty and worthless. Tom smiled. He was good at making almost anyone feel dirty and worthless. And yet the adults at the orphanage loved how smart he was. Of course, they sometimes questioned why he didn't get along all the time with the other kids, but he could easily avoid answering those. The real answer: They were all scared of him. The answer he often gave: They didn't interest him.

Tom smirked as the boy handed the toy snake over, hands shaking, eyes cast downwards. "Here," he said, Tom taking the toy and watching the younger boy turn around and walk off. Tom smiled and looked at the toy snake. He didn't know what it was about them, but they _fascinated _him. They were so smooth to the touch, they could smell with their tongues, they never had to blink, they could sneak upon you and poison you at the last second, and most importantly, _he could talk to them._ What was cooler than being able to talk to snakes?

He hadn't told anyone his little secret, as well as a lot of his other little secrets. He was only ten years old and he knew how to make animals do what he wanted as well as kill themselves at his simple wish, have people do what he wanted them to, talk to snakes, and do weird things at times that he couldn't explain. But, he was a freak. He knew it. He at least knew he wasn't normal. There had to be some sort of explanation as to why he could do all of the things he did, but he didn't know where he could find an answer. So, he waited and treated each day like the day before; sweet and sensitive to the nurses, and cruel and cold to the kids.

_No... This isn't me, _a thought interrupted, blurring the dream. _I'm... That's not me. I'm not mean. I know that. I'm silent and nice..._

The dream continued to blur and finally fade away into nothing, Harry waking up, pain tenderly calling out to all of his nerves. He laid on his cot, not moving as pain decided to hang out and reminde him what he had been put through. He slowly recognized what hurt and the list grew quickly, before Harry just wished he could simply die and end it all.

He opened his eyes, the dream fully slipping away and the pain slightly disappearing. He tried to think back to his dream, and wondered about it. It didn't make any sense. What had he been dreaming about? _Who_ had he been dreaming about? _Tom...the name Tom was said... Voldemort?_

The thought quickly passed his mind though. Voldemort had been shielding his dreams for a long time, and Harry was too wrapped up in his pain to feel that man's emotions anymore. So, what was the purpose of it all?

_Does it matter? _a small, beaten voice piped up. _You're never leaving here, so there's no purpose in anything anymore. Pain fuzzes your mind 24/7. Can you remember your past? That's where the importance of the dream lies. If you can't remember your past, then there's no purpose in remembering the dream. Lay back down and rest up for the next session..._

Harry didn't really know what to say. His own mind had turned on him. It was true though... What was the purpose if he couldn't remember the real purpose of anything anymore? Harry sighed and allowed the darkness and pain to take him away for the time being.

When he next awoke, it was once more to the cries of his body, and not by force. He thought about everything, and wondered if Voldemort had been speaking the truth when he said Harry would be allowed to rest. Harry didn't want to be thrown back in shackles again or have the Dark Lord's wand turned on him once more. He was sick of the pain in his life and body, and wanted to be normal and healthy again. Such a hard wish, since every faith out there appeared to have given up on him.

He wondered if there was anything he could do to end his life, or even just to avoid the pain. Maybe if he promised to be Voldemort's personal servant he would be able to avoid some of the torture. Wasn't the whole point though to ruin him? Harry thought. He... He thought that was the reason, but a lot of his mind was a cloud, so he couldn't exactly recall...

Harry heard the door to the chamber open and saw one of the Death Eater's come in and walk over to Harry. Harry tried to move away, but he was too weak and tired.

"The Dark Master wishes you in his presence," the man said, grabbing Harry by the arm. Harry was lifted up and taken over to the showers. "You are to be clean and proper in his services today. Shower, and then I will provide you with robes afterwards." Harry knew the man was smirking through the mask. "Now move or I will be forced to help you."

Harry nodded and the guy dropped him and shut the door, Harry making his way over to the stall. He cleaned as quickly as he could, but was barely functioning on the surviving amount of food and water he had last been given...days ago. At least he could drink the water in the shower. That seemed to help sometimes.

When Harry was out and dried, the Death Eater came and gave him robes that were black with green trimming that matched the collar around Harry's neck. He really wished he could take the thing off, but he was a slave. It must stay on.

When the guy was convinced Harry was ready, they made their way to the Lord's meeting room, Harry nervous as to what was going to happen. Why did Voldemort dress him up nicely and _wish_ for his presence? He was a slave, so Voldemort shouldn't need anything special from him. When the Death Eater came up to the desired room, he knocked once, waited for an "Enter" before pushing Harry in and following. Harry stood as straight as he could and gave a brief glance around, but everyone was wearing their masks so he couldn't recognize any of them.

"My adoring pet. Please, come here next to your master," Voldemort called, Harry walking over immediately. Once on Voldemort's right side, Voldemort slid a hand down his arm as if he was hugging Harry closer. "My dear pet, you have been invited to a very important meeting concerning you. It seems like your old pal Dumbledore has been looking for you."

Harry just stood there, looking at the ground the best he could. The name didn't sound important, so why should he care? Voldemort wasn't about to let him go out of sight or boundaries anytime soon anyway.

"So, why would I invite you into this meeting dressed up, clean, and have ourselves masked? Because I want to show you that I am not as mean as you may take me for. For instance, I wish for you as my personal servant. You will follow me around, provide me amusement, and you may receive something out of it. Less beatings, food, clothes, showers, provisions to your little sleeping area..."

A chuckle traveled through the group, Harry only standing there like he had been trained to do. "And maybe if you prove worthy enough, your collar will be taken off and replaced with a nice one that isn't placed into your neck." Harry nodded slightly, knowing that _would_ be nice.

"But, how does this come back to your headmaster? I guess I'm trying to give the impression I captured you to be the slave you are and I'm showing him you are fine out of his hands. I don't think he could save any bit of you, especially your mind. You have lost your memories, emotions, and heart. And all because of him, all because he looked over all of the minor details of you life while I acted upon them.

"And now, I have word he is _finally _trying to find you. Why now, I ask, after the few months you have been here? Does he think that nothing would have happened to you? Is he that full of himself to assume you haven't been touched? Or, does he hope to play the hero and save you in only a matter of time? Dumbledore is an idiot to even think that way. He is old and senile, and he should place the actions to rest since he has no way of figuring anything out."

Harry only looked at the floor, listening to Voldemort rant. None of this really meant anything to him. He was just Harry, human pet to Lord Voldemort. Nothing else mattered to him...providing he could even remember his past. He was done, he was stuck, and he would die by Voldemort's hand. He had figured out that much, so why was this "Dumbledore" so set on getting him out of there? Apparently Harry meant something to him, gross, but what was so important that it made Voldemort upset?

Harry didn't know if he was allowed to speak or not. He had a question for his master, but if he spoke, he would be punished...unless the question pleased his master, then he wouldn't be punished... Harry took in a deep breath and asked, "Master, sir, why does this Dumbledore anger you so? Is he a bad man?" His voice had been weak and barely audible, but it had been for Voldemort's ears, so why did it matter if any other's heard it?

Harry waited for some sort of hit, but he knew it wasn't going to come once he saw the smile overcome his master's face. "Because, my loyal pet, Dumbledore is a controlling, principle consuming, power hungry man. If something doesn't go his way, he must fix it so it does. By not having you in his hands, _nothing_ is going his way. Most people see him as a good man who cares about others more than himself, but deep down he is greedy for anything he can place control over. But, you are mine now and we're not going to worry about the old bastard stealing you back right now. Instead, we are going to talk about how to take over the school with you as our weapon."

Voldemort turned to fully face everyone, menace coating his face again, he asked, "So, though this is still in the rough, what plans do we have?"

Harry stood next to Voldemort as everyone planned an attack on one place named Hogwarts, Harry noticing how much detail went into the work. Apparently the place was so well protected and constructed it'd take more than just wizards to bring it down. And with Hogwarts being the good side, so to say, there were most likely going to be strong wizards fighting against the Death Eaters and whatever else protection Voldemort had thought of.

Harry only stood there ignoring the cries of his body and the plans that his master was organizing. He didn't listen to much of it, since he wasn't sure if it concerned him and he didn't want to get in trouble for listening in. At one particular point though, Harry did listen in when it concerned him when one of the Death Eaters mentioned his name...sort of.

"What about if and when Dumbledore comes after the boy? He is about to have the boy back, as he has mentioned whenever he has faculty meetings, that he will find Harry. But, he _is_ becoming a bit agitated that he has no lead on you or the boy, my Lord."

Harry looked at the speaker, then to Voldemort. Yes, he would like to get out of here, but where would he go?

Voldemort though only smirked. "Very good. I'm glad he is becoming agitated that he cannot find me or the boy. I have his key pet and I am not going to return him anytime soon. If the time ever is right, I may allow for you to slip out hints of my location to the man, or someone to the _Daily Prophet, _since we do have some of the key writers on our side. Do not fret about it Severus. When the time is right, all will fall into place, and we will be victorious."

Everyone nodded, Voldemort standing. "You may all leave. We will discuss this more another time." Everyone stood, bowing, rising, then exiting the room. Harry continued to stand next to Voldemort, Voldemort lifting a hand and stroking the back of Harry's head. "The time will come, my pet, for you to prove your worth. Everything will end nicely I believe."

Harry only nodded, Voldemort continuing to stroke his head.

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A few days passed, the torture lightening up considerably on Harry. He followed Voldemort around a lot more, and was allowed to eat sparingly. Voldemort gave him his wand back and taught him spells to destroy and kill (without any worries of the ministry, Voldemort explained simply), and though Harry wasn't fond of the killing one, it was more because he never thought it was necessary to randomly end someone's life. The torturing and fighting spells he mastered quickly enough, having a vast context of spells and defenses, and Voldemort enjoying that Harry was a quick enough learner. Not the greatest, but very decent.

Harry began to wear more normal, nicer clothes and robes, and was allowed to help plan out the destruction of Hogwarts. Harry gradually forgot about what had happened to him by this and man and hands of others and could tell his former torturers' weren't to happy about it. Harry could often hear Marlo complaining loudly how the Dark Lord was becoming softer and wanted to know why Harry was healing instead of bleeding. Shanike, Harry knew, was wondering as well though she voiced her questions to Voldemort instead of the castle, and nicely instead of harshly.

Harry wasn't allowed to hear the answer Voldemort had given her, but whatever he said seemed enough to satisfy her and shut Marlo up for the time being. Harry healed far better than he thought he would, and didn't know why. His body had been greatly damaged, yet he was able to move without much help from the potions.

A week after Harry had been healing on his own, Voldemort allowed him to another meeting, and he was told this one was much more important. It was in one of the large chambers, and Harry was standing next to Voldemort's side as everyone filed in. The Inner Circle first came in first and kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes, than filing around as the rest of the Death Eaters entered and kissed the robes as well.

Harry noticed that the Death Eaters who came in the second group all displayed fear a lot more than those of the Inner Circle. Of course Harry was scared of Voldemort but it was on a much different level than the Death Eaters. Harry watched as Voldemort took his seat while everyone stood patiently, awaiting the news. Harry tried not to let his eyes wander, but he was beginning to recognize a few of the more common Death Eaters than the newer arrivals.

When Voldemort began speaking, Harry dropped his eyes, listening obediently. "As you may know, we have been planning the seize of Hogwarts for some time now, though recently we have begun to think about it and organize the attack.

"I have been thinking about the time to attack and how soon we will have an army of the dead. Though many of them have killed enough to gain a body and a mind of their own, they will be used in due time. Those who are weak or still mostly dead will be used in the attack, since you cannot kill what is already dead." Voldemort paused to grin and stare at those around him, taking in their reactions.

"My plans were to begin in April," he continued on. "The time will throw Dumbledore completely off, and it gives us two months to plan. March begins in a week. If we pursue hard enough, which we will or else you will all be punished to my hearts content," Harry saw a shudder overtake the crowd out of the corner of his eyes, "then we will achieve victory.

"With the warming weather, the students will have no worries of an attack, and I will place a leak inside the Ministry and _Daily Prophet _to cause Dumbledore to believe I am further away than he believes, and that I am possibly going to attack the school at the end of May."

Harry glanced up and saw Voldemort look around the room slowly. "We will kill as many as we can. To see the children tortured and killed will break the old man's heart, and that is one of my life's desires that I wish to see. He will be unable to do anything but watch, and maybe defend a few of the helpless souls."

Harry looked up fully, seeing Voldemort's red eyes glittering in the light. "And, I have Dumbledore's key weapon working against him." Harry saw Voldemort gesture towards Harry, and dropped his gaze. A few of the Death Eaters were smiling and nodding, a few looking inquisitive, and the rest having an understanding look that managed to be mischievous as well.

"Brilliant," one of the newer Death Eater's whispered.

"Yes. It's quite simple since Dumbledore has no idea what I am planning or what I am doing with the boy. I am sure some word will leak out eventually and he will try his very hardest to learn where I am, but I would very much so love to torture and kill the person that spoke." Harry saw Voldemort look slowly around the room, taking his time with looking into everyone's eyes.

Harry looked back at the ground, mind blank of what Voldemort was talking about. Yes, he was listening, but he was storing the information to think about later when Voldemort would ask him to go over the details. That was about the only time Voldemort punished him. If Harry messed up or missed one important detail, the Cruciatus Curse was used until Harry remembered. Usually Voldemort told him what he had forgotten and Harry would then continue on with the meeting's details until he messed up again or Voldemort told him to stop.

Afterwards Harry felt horrible for not meeting his master's expectations, but he was glad he wasn't thrown back to Marlo or Shanike. Marlo had been quite persistent at random moments, trying to get Voldemort to let Harry spend the day with him. Voldemort, to Harry's relief, had always turned down the offer, and Harry could tell that if Marlo didn't stop asking, he was going to get in trouble.

Harry paid more attention as the meeting dragged on, listening to suggestions being made about how to organize everyone, where they would set up a base, who would be sent out first, who were backups and healers, how long they would try to drag it the battle out while depleting Dumbledore's students and army, and how they were going to get past the barriers around the school. A rough plan of action began to form, involving a lot more details than Harry expected.

Voldemort seemed pleased at the end of the meeting as everyone kissed his robes and left, only a few remaining. Wormtail, Snape, and Malfoy. Wormtail spoke first, after glaring at Harry. He simply asked though what he could do for his Lord.

"Find me the list of updated infiltrators with the _Daily Prophet_ and the Ministry of Magic."

Wormtail nodded and left, Malfoy stepping up next. "My Lord, my son will be at Hogwarts when you attack. Shall we have him help out as well?"

Voldemort looked thoughtfully at Malfoy before answering. "Leave that question out in the open for a little while longer before we come to a conclusion."

Malfoy nodded, answering, "Yes my master, of course," and bowing before he walked out.

Snape gave a short bow before asking, "Do you wish for me to slip any information to Dumbledore, my Lord? Or do you wish for me to confuse him by telling him an incorrect date for something?"

Voldemort shook his head. "No, it's too risky. I need you in his deepest trust and thinking that you are on the side of the good. Come closer to the date I will allow you to leak some information, but not this far away in time. Continue to work closer under his wing, though don't look suspicious. If he asks about Potter, reply with he's alive last you heard."

Snape nodded, also asking, "Is there any potions you would like me to create? Dumbledore will not be suspicious; he knows how much I love my lab and creating projects whenever I feel like it."

Voldemort nodded, replying, "Yes. I would like the truth serum and healing potions for scars, cuts, blood replacement, and broken bones."

Snape nodded. "Is that all, my Lord?"

"For the moment."

Snape nodded and bowed, leaving the room quickly. Harry noticed Voldemort was in a rather pleasant mood and he wondered how long it was going to stay like that before he became angry once more. Voldemort turned to Harry, smiling. "Now, shall we head to the chambers?"

Harry nodded, becoming weary of what was going to happen. Normally, Voldemort had him stay in the meeting room and ask him then and there what happened in the meeting. Was he going to have Harry wait until later, where Harry was sure to have forgotten some sort of detail? Or was he going to straight up torture Harry, since it has been awhile and Harry was healing?

Harry followed Voldemort back to the Chambers, looking at the ground the entire way. He noticed though, that they weren't going to their room chambers. He thought back to what Voldemort said, and realized that Voldemort hadn't specified which chambers they were going to. He became afraid, not recognizing the area they were in or heading towards.

"Nervous, my pet?" Voldemort asked, Harry glancing up before looking back to the ground.

"We haven't been in this part of the building before, my master," Harry replied.

Voldemort didn't respond, but Harry knew he was smiling. When they came up to a store door, Harry's pulse sped and his breaking became more rigid, despite his attempts to keep calm. He didn't know what Voldemort was planning, or where the door led to. Voldemort pulled the door open, saying, "My pet, this is what I like to call the war room."

Harry paused before looking up, not expecting this. He looked up slowly, and was surprised at the vast amounts of weapon wizardry he saw. He entered the room, looking at all of the different cloaks, swords, and auto-aims for your wand, just to name a few that he could identify off the top of his head. Voldemort took him to the back of the room, where he noticed more Death Eater masks, though each one was the same—silver, eye holes, a line down the right cheek, closed mouth, and an X on the forehead. Voldemort picked up a center one and turned around, holding it out to Harry.

"This will be the mask you will wear in the battle. I will present this to you at a more formal, appropriate time, but I wished to let you know that you have your own mask."

Harry nodded slowly, dimly aware he was saying, "Yes, thank you master, I greatly appreciate this sir, thank you."

The mask was a bronze-looking gold, hollow cheeks, narrow eye holes, a malevolent smirking mouth, and a lightening bolt shaped mark on the forehead, though more on the right side of his forehead instead of in the center. Harry felt it was a glorious piece of artwork that was being handed down to him. He wasn't worthy enough though to have such a thing entitled to him. He looked up to Voldemort, not quite to the eyes, but enough to see the scheming smirk covering the man's face.

"Good, I'm glad that you like it. When we attack Hogwarts, I wish for you to wear it so everyone can see what you have become."

Harry nodded, saying, "Yes sir," firmly. Voldemort placed the mask back upon the black velvet cloth and they left the room, Voldemort leading Harry back towards the part of the building that he knew best.

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Snape went up the staircase to Dumbledore's office, not in the best of moods, though in a better one than the last few times he had come up here. When he arrived at the top he knocked on the door, soon entering. As normal, Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, hands folded, the black one only looking more grotesque. And, as usual, Dumbledore asked, "What news do you have?"

Snape sat down first, letting out a sigh. "You may or may not believe this, Albus. You have found out by your own means that the Dark Lord is going to attack the school. And, he is going to bring the boy with him."

"Voldemort is bringing Harry back?"

Snape shook his head at the widening of Dumbledore's eyes. "No, you misunderstand. The Dark Lord is going to _use _the boy against us. Harry doesn't remember anything of his past, and he is faithful to the Dark Lord as long as he isn't punished."

Snape looked at Dumbledore, seeing him nod. "We have a problem."

Snape wanted to strangle the older man. _A problem? This is a blasted _**problem**_ in your mind? _Snape let out an agitated sigh, saying, "We might have bigger 'problems' than you think. Wormtail is jealous of Harry, and he isn't smart enough to figure out how to hide it. Harry is more liked by everyone than Wormtail ever was, and he doesn't constantly grovel or cry out for attention. He is strong and will do whatever the Dark Lord tells him to do. Everyone talks about how we have such a strong ally, and Wormtail dislikes hearing these things. If Harry is not careful, something can happen to him. Wormtail is a slimy, ungrateful little—"

"Severus, I sense your annoyance. We will get him there. The order is ready for any command. We need a moment when the Death Eaters are out and Voldemort is not surrounded."

Snape thought. "People are there at all times. And I cannot be with you when you attack, otherwise the Dark Lord will quickly it is I telling you all of our details, and he will set out to kill me."

Dumbledore nodded. "I can give you a task to do and you can tell Voldemort that I am sending you away. Ask him for a task as well. I cannot afford to have you killed."

Severus nodded. "I understand. I will try to find the best day for us to attack."

"Thank you Severus. I hope you understand how important this is to me."

Snape nodded and stood, exiting the room and thinking of when a good time would be to attack. _If Dumbledore has the Order ready... We'll see how ready they are to go against the Dark Lord to get Harry. If Dumbledore really has everything together, it won't be a complete failure._

Snape stepped out into the main hall of Hogwarts, and went towards his labs, deciding to begin on the potions the Dark Lord wanted. He didn't tell Dumbledore everything the Dark Lord did; he was still faithful to the evil man, just not as much as he used to be. He saw Harry's friends walking to the Gryffindor tower as he guessed dinner just finished, and once more he noticed the silent gloom that had overcome the two. It was almost tempting to tell them their friend was still alive... But, it was _almost_ tempting, and they had turned their way up to the tower.

Snape continued on his way to his lab, shutting everything from his mind except the recipes for the potions.

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Ummm...hi everyone. I'm alive...and still working away...i'm really sorry it's taken so fricken long to get posted... I've just been extremely busy. My editor in chief for the school newpaper has made sure i'm constantly working and we've had two layouts that weren't even a month apart x.X and i just got a job and i've had loads of homework and projects and i just haven't been home much...well...the school's more of a home than here but whatever. And...yea. i'm just super busy and it's rather annoying. I want it to stop, but i have a month and a half left of school...yay. Yeah...hopefully i'll start writing more soon...i created an outline for the rest of this story and there's still a lot more, like enough to write off of with no worries. hehe. and, i made a little update thingy on my profile, so if you're often wondering where i am, yea, check that every so often... And thanks to all of you who have reviewed in the last chapter, and are (hopefully) going to review in this chapter. I love you all so dearly for your words and how faithful you are... :P thanks you guys!! And yeah...now i'm going to go stay up til like three working on my homework again...oh well. So...hope you enjoyed this chapter!!


	30. Perceiving Two Sides

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Harry stood next to Voldemort faithfully, watching the Death Eaters leave one by one after kissing the hem of their master's robe. Snape was the last person and approached Voldemort, bowing slightly before he spoke. "My master, Dumbledore is sending me away on an assignment within the next few days. Is there anything you would like me to do?"

Voldemort looked thoughtful as he watched Snape. "Are you traveling alone?"

Snape nodded. "For a piece of the distance. I will meet up with others at my destinations, but until I arrive there, I am alone."

Voldemort smirked. "Where are those places?"

"Durmstrang and Beauxbaton. Dumbledore has letters for me to give the headmasters over there."

"Have you seen the letters?"

Snape shook his head. "No sir. Dumbledore is not that faithful of me, and I do not pry into his secret life. He has encased them with a spell that will lift once they have reached the hands of the desired person."

Voldemort simply nodded. "Very well. Thank you for informing me of this. I am surprised that Dumbledore has sent you alone. Does he trust you that much?"

"Yes sir, without a doubt. When he first took me into Hogwarts after you fell, he did not trust me, yet he believed I had the good in me he thought he could bring out. I allowed him to think I was coming to the side of the good, and for the past couple of years, his trust had grown considerably. When you rose again, I was by Dumbledore's side which helped ensure the trust he had placed in me. When I am away for meetings such as this, he has no idea, or I am able to come with a reason why I must leave the school."

Harry saw Voldemort smile and nod. "Excellent. You have done far better than I have planned. While you are away, check on our abroad Death Eaters and those at Durmstrang. Let them know the rough plan and that we will be gathering everyone in a few weeks."

Snape bowed. "Yes sir. I will return in roughly a week and a half."

Voldemort nodded as Snape walked out, then turned to Harry. Harry blinked, slightly shrinking down and still unable to meet his Master's eyes. "My pet. Are you ready for a gift?"

Harry nodded, unsure of what to do. Voldemort walked out of the room, Harry following as they went down a hall, entering a few other hallways before stopping in front of a room. Harry looked around him, trying to figure out where he was, but he came to realize he hadn't been in this part of the castle before.

Voldemort turned back to him, saying, "My pet, you have come to prove your worth to me just as I expected. What I am about to give you will be kept secret between you and I. It is a sign of your loyalty and my trust in you."

Harry looked at Voldemort, still not eye to eye, and wondered what was going on. He watched Voldemort open the door to an elaborate room, decked with silky maroon curtains, dark blue rugs, dark wooden tables, and a fire place that was lit. There was a table in the room, with two chairs that were set away from the table. On top of the table was a black silk cloth, in the center of that a green wooden box. Harry followed Voldemort over to the box, and wondered what it was. Voldemort turned to him, folding his hands together. "This, my pet, is my gift to you."

He waited a moment, watching Harry eye the simple wooden box. There was a lid that slid off, and no design. Voldemort finally turned towards the box, and slid the lid off. He pulled out a collar that looked exactly like the one Harry had on now, though with no spikes.

"This, my loyal servant, is almost the same collar you have on now. Except, there are no spells or spikes. I trust that you are not going to leave my side anytime soon, and if you do, I will have my ways of tracking you down. Does that sound fair?"

Harry nodded, saying, "Yes master. I have no reason to leave your side anyway. I don't know my past, and you have been fair with me."

He saw Voldemort grin. "That's good, my boy. Now. I give you permission to remove your collar."

Harry nodded and slowly unbuckled the collar, slowly taking it out of his neck. He cringed as some of the spikes peeled away his skin, reopening some of the wounds. Finally, it was off, the pieces of leather, needles and glass looking deadly with the blood coated onto it. Voldemort nodded towards the box, and watched as Harry placed the old collar into it.

He stepped back in front of Voldemort, looking at the collar. "My loyal subject, I place this collar upon you to show your worthiness to me and my followers. May my decisions and thoughts help guide you in my prescense and on your way in life."

He snapped the collar into place, and a comforting warmth encased Harry's neck for a few seconds. He looked up to Voldemort's chin and nodded. Voldemort ruffled his hair and said, "Now, shall we go back to our chambers and get you cleaned up some?"

Harry nodded, and the two left, Harry feeling better than he had in a long time.

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A few days passed, Harry being punished less and less. He began to enjoy this life, and soon became closer to Voldemort's side more than anyone ever had. Of course, the Dark Lord has his moments where the boy was left alone and learning the dark arts, but in most moments they were together. Harry wondered what Voldemort had in store for him, as well as the Death Eaters. They seemed on edge, and more and more whispers floated around Harry that didn't make any sense.

_"Have you seen Wormtail lately? I hear that he's getting jealous…"_

_"I heard that the Dark Lord is going to use the boy to succeed him when he's gone..."_

_"I bet that the Dark Lord is going to kill off the boy when we attack the school..."_

Harry had heard several things, whether on purpose or on accident he wasn't quite sure. He stuck to Voldemort's side as much as he could, simply for protection, though he knew that he could take down any of the Death Eaters with a simple curse. And, they knew this too.

One night after a meeting, Harry watched the Death Eaters disapperate to wherever their other lives were, and followed Voldemort back to their room. Once they reached the room, Harry stood next to the door like a guard, while Voldemort wandered over to the window, folding his arms behind his back. Harry waited silently, wondering what Voldemort was going to say. Finally, "My pet, you have come to serve me well. Though I have destroyed most of your mind and memories, I would do it again in a heartbeat. You are loyal to us all, and I am very grateful, though I am aware that this can only go on for so long."

Voldemort turned around just as someone pounded on the door, soon entering. "Sir!" he said, breathless.

Voldemort glared at the speaker. "How dare you enter my chambers unannounced. What is the meaning of this before I curse you upon your mother's grave?"

The man dropped onto one knee. "Please master, I beg forgiveness, but there are intruders upon the land, and they have backup. Please sir, we need you down front."

Voldemort became surprised. "What are you talking about?"

The man cowered. "I-I don't know sir! There are probably fifteen of them, and they are already bringing down our forces! Please, we need you and your servant's help!"

Harry could see Voldemort's anger visibly rising. "Lead the way, man," the Dark Lord commanded, the Death Eater jumping up and heading towards the entrance of the castle. Voldemort handed Harry his wand along the way, the wood feeling quite comfortable and warm—simple signs that it was ready for battle.

The small group stepped out into the front yards and what they saw was indeed a mini battle. Lights from spells were flying in all directions, random yells of triumph and pain littering the air.

"Get back to the fighting," Voldemort commanded the one man, and then looked towards Harry. "I want you to stay close to me. These men are the ones I've been preparing you for. Take as many down as you possibly can, with as much anger and force as you can possibly call. They are only here to destroy the life I have provided you with and take you back under their control. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded. "Yes master. I understand."

Voldemort walked quickly into the battle, shouting spells as soon as he saw a person. Harry followed close by, attacking random people that he found and knew weren't Death Eaters. He received various reactions, but he paid no heed. His master was beginning to fight an old man, both obviously equal in power and strength. Harry watched the battle, as well as take people down whenever they tried to interfere.

"Harry! Don't you remember any of us?" One woman shouted, hair a deep purple.

He looked at her and placed the Cruciatus curse upon her, grinning as she began to scream and jerk around on the ground. He heard another chorus of "Harry!" and looked around, slightly lifting the spell off of the woman as his attention shifted.

A middle aged man ran towards him, Harry lifting the first spell and was about to place it upon the man in front of him. He had bright red hair, and looked beaten down almost. "Harry! Don't you remember us?"

Harry raised his wand in defense, and looked over at his master. _Who are these people? I don't know them, but how do they know me? _He looked back over to those in front of him and shook his head. "Get the hell out of here, or you'll meet your worst nightmare."

The small group of five looked at each other, as well as keeping an eye on the fights around them. Another man stepped forward, looking crushed. "Harry. I've known you since you were born. You were supposed to fight against that man. Never to join him, and turn against your friends."

"I have no friends. Everything I need is here. I'm giving you a final warning. Leave or be punished."

The group stood there, simply raising their wands in defense. "Harry, you don't want to do this," the man with the red hair said. "You need to remember who we are."

Harry shook his head. "All I need to remember is in my head already. You all had your chance at backing away, and you didn't take it. Now, _Incendia Verbero_!" A long flaming whip came out the end of Harry's wand, floating almost mockingly in the air. "What's the matter? Don't want to play anymore?"

Harry eyed the group and their reactions. He wondered if they really would back away, or if they would stay and fight him. He didn't care. The more people that they injured or killed, the less of a threat they would have nation or worldwide. He saw them look at each other and slowly back away. "We don't want to do this Harry. We don't want to hurt someone that has been placed on the wrong side by accident."

Harry chuckled. "You can't prove that. My master has taught me more than I ever expected to know. He has taken great care of me and I know I will always be able to trust him with his choices. He is smart and quick, and will always be my master."

Harry flicked the whip at them, which came threateningly close to hitting the man with red hair. Harry grinned as he looked back to where the girl was laying. Sadly, she was up and moving now, sort of, and looked able to defend herself. Harry was a little disappointed. He was planning on playing with her a little...

"Harry! Think about what you're about to do!" another voice shouted, Harry looking for the source. He found it was from the old man that his master was fighting.

Harry paused, wondering what this man was going on about. "You're fighting for the wrong side," the woman with the purple hair said, Harry turning back to her. "Please Harry, believe us. You believe in the wrong side. Come back to the Order. We need you."

Harry shook his head, taking a step back. _How do these people know my name? How do they even know me? The look in their eyes...they know me from somewhere. What's going on?_

"Don't listen to them, boy! Kill them all! Believe in me and the strength I have given you. Fight on!" Voldemort called, Harry simply nodding and slashing his whip at the small group.

"_Aqua_!" One of the male's called, a spray of water attempting to put out the whip.

"_Atra nox verbero_!" Harry said, his whip turning black and absorbing the water. He lashed it towards the group again, having it wrap around the man with red hair's neck. His hands went up, but couldn't grasp onto the cord. He began gasping for air, Harry laughing. "There's nothing to grab onto, old man. It's just night. An oblivion."

"Harry!" A chorus of voices called, Harry looking around and deciding to begin defending himself. He released the whip and cancelled the spell, putting up his strongest shield that he could think of.

He pointed his wand at the group and began saying spells that he'd been taught recently. _Fire light. Stinging cloud. Jitters. Black light. Knife burn. Cut. Backlash. _Harry felt himself slip out of reality and focus on those in front of him. He didn't want to kill them...just injure them greatly so they couldn't attack him back. That's all his simple goal was.

As he was succeeding, with being hurt very little, he felt a stinging hex in the back of his neck, causing him to collapse onto his knees. He looked around, and saw it was from the old man, who was looking a little out of breath, while his master had disappeared. "I'm sorry Harry, but you needed to be brought back to reality."

Harry looked around, seeing the Death Eater's losing. _No! This can't be happening! We're losing! _He looked back at the old man, seething. "What have you done to our men?"

"Your 'men' are Death Eater's. They deserve to be punished for their crimes," a tall black man said. He walked up and stood next to the old man, looking disappointed. "Harry, I never expected to see you like this. I don't think any of us did."

Harry stayed on his knees, feeling surrounded. He kept his guard up and his wand at the ready, a list of spells already on his tongue. The old man simply shook his head, his blue eyes shining. "Come with us Harry. We'll give you your memories back and show you your real life."

"I'm not going anywhere. I don't know who you people are, and this is my life right here."

The old man looked disappointed, almost. "Harry, you do know all of us. You just don't remember. I have taken the best care of you that I have been able to, and so has the rest of us. If I have to take you by force, I will. Look around. Do you see your master? Do you see him tending to those that have been injured? No. He ran when he saw that I was going to defeat him. Please Harry, open your eyes. You are fighting on the wrong side."

The old man lifted his hand out, waiting for Harry to either accept or fight back. Harry just sat there, unknowing what to do. His mind was completely blank, yet his body was tense, preparing to fight…

He was gone. The world was pulled from his vision, Harry yelling as he felt his body collapse. A sudden pain entered his brain, spreading throughout each of his limbs quickly. "_Dumbledore_," he heard his voice say. "_You will never succeed. This boy is mine. You may believe that you have beat me, but you have only caught me off guard. I will beat and destroy you and your precious forces in the future, just you wait. Now, do you really want the boy this bad? Do you enjoy seeing him in this much pain?_"

Harry was willing to do anything to get it all to stop. He was back at Shanike's hands and not being allowed to sleep or heal. He had knives and whips and electric volts charging throughout his body, and he couldn't control any of it. It was shredding the last of his mind, of whatever sanity he had remaining. He had lost so much of it already to pain...he was losing the last grip...

"_Do you enjoy seeing the boy in this much pain? He can stand a lot, but I'm pushing him to his breaking point. Get me out of his head and you can take him back_." Harry felt his body move, standing up. He couldn't tell what was going on. He knew the Dark Lord was still controlling him, but what was he going to do with Harry's body? He felt his mouth move, and say the words "_Everto rex regis aus odium_."

Harry heard gasps all around him, but he didn't know what was going on. He fought for control, but lost miserably. He tried to at least see what was going on around him, and was able to do that. Only, what he saw didn't make much sense. There were bodies of ghosts around him, all looking to be some sort of royalty, like kings. They had red eyes, and all had swords. Dumbledore looked nervous, the rest of the surviving Order openly scared.

"You have called down a great spell, Voldemort. I, however, know the one spell that will challenge it and make this a fight to the death. By your death, the boy is mine."

"And vice versa, professor."

"_Altum regina aus cultus_."

Harry saw a streak of white rise behind the old man, the streaks soon taking form into women. They all held spears and wore crowns, Harry wondering if they were the queens to Voldemort's kings. He highly doubted it though. The women's eyes were gold, and they all had light shimmering hair. They were about as opposite as you could get from each other.

"Now, let us see who is more powerful."

Harry watched pitifully as the two sides of ghosts went after each other, Harry yelling as he felt the spears slice through each of the kings and into his own body. He couldn't breathe, and the pain only intensified more than he could bear. He was slipping back into the darkness, but didn't want the Dark Lord to be in body as he did so... _Pass along, little one. I will be back to retrieve you. I will hold you once more in my possession, whether you like it or not. I love being able to control such a strong, young, determined boy, such as yourself. Now, what shall I do while I still hold control, hmm?_

Harry curled up, scared. He couldn't fight the man that was controlling him anymore than he could fight for his freedom. He endured his own misery, and was ignoring what was going on with his body. Hell, he barely even knew what was going on with his body. The old man and his master were going at it, but he couldn't see what they were doing. _Never mind. I don't want to know what they're doing. As long as I get out of this alive, that's all I care about. _

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Voldemort smiled. His little apprentice was finally losing grip with reality. He himself had fled the battle long ago, but that was only because he had not been ready for this type of thing. He was livid at Dumbledore for finding out where the castle was, and demanded to know who had told him. He would figure that out later though.

His current wonder was the boy's mind. He could see that it was slipping out of his grasp, but that was only because the boy was slowly losing his sanity. And maybe some health as the ghosts were attacking him, but that could be fixed. Sanity...that was a completely different path that he didn't want to mess with. If Dumbledore was going to do what he thought he was going to do, then he didn't have to worry about dealing with Harry's sanity, though slaves that had lost their mind due to pain were quite interesting to deal with.

Voldemort looked back at Dumbledore, watching him struggle with the kings of hatred. The queens though, they were doing a lot to him though too. _I must win. The boy is mine!_

He looked at Dumbledore, and their eyes met. He grinned and rushed at his old professor, determined to bring him down once and for all.

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Hey...everyone...i'm...here...and alive... hehe. Sorry it's taken so flippen long to get out. My muses have been ditching me, but they've come back for the moment. Sorry this chapter is really short, but yeah, it works...and helps progress further on into what i'm going with. I thank all of you for being patient with me, as i dont have much time to write anymore, as it's almost 3 in the morning mountain time :P but hey, the stories being updated, which is always nice. hehe. Thanks to all of you who reviewed, and especially thanks to bybytte for bugging me about updating...sometimes i need a reminder, which always works :) I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and i'll try to be better about updates in the future...sorry sorry sorry!! Thanks again to those who reviewed, and here are some definitions for the chapter... Until next time!!

_Incendia Verbero--_Fire Whip  
_Aqua--_Water  
_Atra nox verbero--_Black Night Whip  
_Everto rex regis aus odium-- _Demolished Kings of Hatred  
_Altum regina aus cultus-- _Cherished queens of Worship


	31. Here Yet Gone

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Dumbledore listened to Voldemort yell as the queens cut through him, and thought he heard a bit of Harry's voice in it. _It's working. Only a little longer…_ What he was afraid of, though, was the boy's mental capacities. He could see the strain on Harry's face that Voldemort had, and hoped that the dark lord would give up soon.

"Voldemort," he said, "Give it up. I am going to defeat you and there is nothing you can do. Hand over the boy."

He saw Voldemort fall onto his knees, holding his hands up to his ears, beginning to writhe in pain as another queen destroyed his king. "Why would I give up so easily Dumbledore?"

"Because you don't have much control left. I can see that. Now, let Harry go."

"Give me a few more minutes with him and I'll allow you to take him back."

Dumbledore didn't like the sound of Voldemort's voice and held his queens back. He watched Voldemort for a little bit, finally the boy's eyes fluttering and falling shut, his body relaxing. Dumbledore rushed over, the boy's breath weak, and called the Order over. "Get him to the school quickly."

The group rushed over, Lupin and Arthur grabbing Harry first. They carried him away from the site quickly, everyone leaving their fights with whatever Death Eater's remained. At the end of the property where they could safely apparate away, Dumbledore held onto the unconscious boy and was the first to head back to the school. He felt the familiar tugging and tightening sensation, and then could breathe again. He looked beside him and saw Kingsley Shacklebolt appear beside him, Shacklebolt coming and taking Harry out of Dumbledore's arms.

Everyone began appearing, some walking up to the school with Dumbledore, other's remaining behind to keep watch and to not alert the students. Dumbledore looked around, glad to see it was still dark. The students should be asleep, and there shouldn't be any word that Harry was back for awhile, if he was able to hold his protection.

He entered the school with Shacklebolt, flanked by McGonagall, Lupin, Weasley, and Tonks. They soon met up with Madam Pomfrey and she was able to hold in her gasp at one look at Harry. She turned and set a pace almost fast enough to be considered jogging. Dumbledore sighed at the questions she had bursting on her tongue. As soon as they entered the hospital wing, she shut the doors and said, "Set the boy over on that far bed in the corner. It's the most out of sight and closest to the items I'll need to heal him with."

She watched Shacklebolt out of the corner of her eye follow directions as she turned towards Dumbledore. "What happened to him? He looks like death."

Dumbledore nodded. "This is where we're going to need your expertise in all areas. I'm aware you can't heal everything, but we can't afford to send him to St. Mungo's. He has been gone for the past three months and a sudden appearance will bring too much public attention."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and walked over to the boy, quickly waving her wand over him, soon to have it almost fall out of her hand. "S-s-ssir," she stuttered, everyone racing over, "I, I don't know how I'll be able to heal him. His body is exhausted and strained, but his mind... Professor, I'm afraid his mind is beyond our help."

"What has happened?"

Dumbledore attempted to keep his features calm as he watched Madam Pomfrey take in a few breaths, watching how she was deciding how to accept what has happened. "Harry's mind...isn't there, so to say. By the simple scan, I got the most basic of brain waves—the general functions of his body. There should also be some other waves to show that his brain is processing something, whether it's that his body is hurting, he has been moved and is in another location, or that he feels back in a familiar environment. Anything like that. There is nothing though. Flat across the board besides the basic functions."

Dumbledore heard gasps behind him, and an "oh no," he thought was from Tonks.

"Is there anything that we can do to help him?"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "Only time will tell. It could be days or months before he wakes, and even more time after that to regain full consciousness of his surroundings. Do you have any idea how this happened?"

"Yes. Voldemort possessed him once more, even though I believe he knew Harry couldn't take anymore. I'm not sure though how close Harry was to breaking in the first place after Voldemort captured him."

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "I'm going to finish analyzing him and try to see what I can work with. Maybe I can help him..."

Dumbledore nodded and left Madam Pomfrey to her thoughts, the little group following Dumbledore up to his office. Once in, he sat down behind his desk and began thinking. He could feel the stares of his friends, and thought hard about what he was going to say.

He finally looked up and met the eyes of Tonks, Lupin, Arthur, and Kingsley. "There's nothing I can really say at this point in time. My first goal is to get Harry to awaken, and once that happens, I'm going to slowly give him his memories back and hopefully that'll help him get used to his surroundings again. I'll gradually show him his surroundings and watch his reactions to see how it comes to him."

"How long do you think this will take? We don't have much time," Lupin said.

Dumbledore thought about how he should answer. He decided to be blunt, which he didn't do very often. "I don't know. I am hoping that it will be soon."

Everyone nodded and Dumbledore dismissed them, then went back to his thoughts. He was almost positive Harry would regain himself back rather quickly if he gave him his memories back. Only... Harry needed to wake up first.

_What has Voldemort done to the boy to make him lose his mind completely? From what Snape has said, Harry was tortured but never completely lost his mind. Once Snape took the memories, we basically left Harry to be molded around Voldemort's finger. I never expected him to become the little assistant. All the torturing though that he was put through... It doesn't surprise me, and tonight when Voldemort took over Harry... He must have shredded the last humanity that Harry had. But, did he expect us to come save Harry and he abducted the boy's mind on purpose, knowing that we would have to deal with the boy afterwards? Or was it an accident, Voldemort taking the boy's body by force and not thinking of the consequences that could happen by the sudden power that embraced his body?_

Dumbledore shook his head, not wanting to put these thoughts together. He didn't want to think about the body that was lying unconscious in the hospital wing, and what he was going to put the boy through once he awoke. He didn't even want to think about what would happen once the boy woke. For once, Dumbledore wanted things to be simple. He wanted Voldemort dead so Harry could live happily, though after all of this, he highly doubted that there was going to be anything happy about his life. His body was close to being destroyed, and his mind had crossed that path a few times already, but there had been enough left over to salvage and save. After all of this though... He was lucky if Harry could think for himself and function decently.

Dumbledore had to go watch the boy, now that he had him back, and make sure that he couldn't do anything. Maybe he could. His vast knowledge sadly didn't carry much in healing, even after all of the mistakes he had done to himself in his past. That's why he had people such as Snape and Madam Pomfrey. They helped him out in dire situations that he had no idea how to get out of.

He made his way through the dark hallways and entered the hospital wing. He made his way towards the bed and slowed as he began to see a better a view of the boy. Dumbledore shook his head, in disbelief at what he saw. Compared to what he looked like earlier that night, Harry now looked like an Inferi. His skin was white, his breath was shallow, and he looked worse than just "worn out" as he had thought earlier.

"Harry, what has happened to you?" he wondered aloud, wanting to know if Harry had really looked this bad only an hour ago. If he had, how could he have overlooked it? Was he really that oblivious to things around him, if he didn't want to acknowledge them? _How how how?_

Dumbledore turned around, gathering himself. There were too many questions, and the only way to answer them was to have Harry awake. He needed Snape, and that was it.

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Ron laid in his bed, sighing. He resisted the urge to roll over and look at the letter his brother Fred had been kind enough to send. He already had the short note memorized, as well as Hermione. He shut his eyes, but the words skimmed over his eyelids—

_Hey little Ronnikins_

_I'm gonna play the nice big bro and tell you stuff's goin down. Can't say much, sorry. Your friend though, your bestie so to say, is coming back. Not for a visit either. Gotta go._

_Big Bro F._

When though? When was Harry coming back? And how had Fred found out before them? Like he said, Harry was their best friend and shouldn't they have the right know first? Or were they kept in the dark in case some sort of word got out and Dumbledore was afraid of the school flipping out? That made a little more sense, sadly. But, the note arrived that morning and Dumbledore had been gone the entire day...

Ron growled in anger and stood up, the dorm room dark and mostly silent with his sleeping friends. He walked over to the ledge of the window, remembering Harry looking out all that time ago, looking normal. He looked out the window himself, and sighed, seeing the quarter moon. He just watched the grounds, trying to relax. He finally began to doze when something caught his attention. A group of people appeared, five he thought. He saw Dumbledore's long white beard and sat up, feeling his heart begin to race. In the moonlight, he thought he could see purple hair, a redhead, someone else, and a tall dark person carrying... _No bloody way. No freaking bloody way in hell. Nonononono..._

Ron gathered that Dumbledore, Tonks, his father, Kingsley and possibly others had rescued Harry, and that Harry was unconscious or something of the sort in Kingsley's arms. He sat up straighter and followed them with his eyes as much as they could, before they disappeared near the castle. _Hermione, I have to tell Hermione, but I can't. It's past two in the morning, and I can't get up the damn stairs in the first place. Shit, Harry's back!_ Ron knew for sure that he couldn't go to sleep now, though he felt a comfort come across him, knowing his best friend, basically his brother, was back. They could all be a group again, and everything would sort of return to normal... As normal as it could get, he supposed.

Ron took in a few deep breaths, happy. He smiled; he hadn't been truly happy in a long time. It was the end of March, and Harry had disappeared Christmas eve. Three months he had been gone, and something had finally been done.

Ron felt a flood of emotions overcome him, and sat down again on the ledge of the window. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, and attempted to take calm breaths. _Harry's back, Harry's back, Harry's back..._ he repeated, unable to get a stupid grin off of his face. He slowly opened his eyes, and decided that it would be a nice idea to reply back to Fred, to thank him.

He silently walked over to his trunk and lifted the lid, grabbing his quill and a spare piece of parchment. He then walked down the stairs to the common room and sat next to the fire, thinking of what to write, finally coming up with—

_Hey Big Bird Freddins_

_I want to thank you for the note. Glad someone out of here is smart and will tell us news. Little bro is back, and I'm happy. He doesn't look that good, do you know what gives? If you do, please tell. I'll leave ya though, it's pretty late... Just wanted to say thanks though!_

_Little Ron_

Ron read it, and thought that it sounded like a fairly decent family note. If someone read it, hopefully they thought it was a normal younger brother to older brother note. He had to be careful, but his excitement sort of mudded his thoughts. He left the common room silently and tried to nicely wake the portrait so she would let him back in when he came back.

He did wake her, though, and she harshly said, "And where do you think you're off to this late at night?"

"It's an important family matter. I'll be back in five minutes, please."

"Hurry. If you wake me up, I may not allow you back in."

Ron nodded and took off running towards the owlery, unable to get the stupid grin off of his face. Harry was back...

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Arthur walked into his home, sighing. He still couldn't believe it. Harry was back in safe hands, though he didn't know for how long. He couldn't get the picture of Harry out of his mind though when they were fighting. He looked truly determined to defeat them. Maybe not kill them, but inflict serious pain upon them. And he was willing to do it single handed.

He met Molly in the small living room and smiled the best that he could, but she caught right away that something was wrong. She stood up off of the chair from where she was knitting and came over, grabbing his hands. "How did it go?"

He shook his head. "It was...interesting. Harry I think is back on our side."

Molly smiled. "Well that's good then! How is he?"

Arthur shook his head. "Not good. He's in the hospital wing right now."

He looked away to the family clock that had each of their child's health on it. He wished once more that they had a place for Harry, though his would probably always be stuck on "mortal danger."

"Why is he there? Didn't the plan go well?"

"It's...complicated. We arrived and fought, but we didn't know how committed he was to the dark lord. We went off of what Severus had told us, but even then he was off. When we went to get Harry, he didn't recognize us, preformed the Cruciatus on Tonks and threatened us. He didn't care who we were. He only wanted to hurt and get us away. You-Know-Who though took over his mind and fought Dumbledore and lost. We gathered Harry, went back to the school and left him to the nurse."

Arthur stopped; his voice was cracking and he didn't want to remember the image of Harry lying on the bed, unconscious and torn apart. Who knew if he was ever going to be the same again... He hoped so. They had to have Harry to win, to end this evil.

"How is he?"

"You don't want to know," Arthur said a little forcefully, making himself forget the image. "Let's just say he's not going to be moving anywhere anytime soon. Molly, trust me on this, you don't want to know how bad he is."

He looked at Molly and she nodded, deciding that would be good enough. "Let's go to bed honey," she said, gently tugging his arm. "We'll see the Order tomorrow. You need sleep."

Arthur only nodded, sighing as they went towards their room. Tomorrow was going to be interesting, that was for sure.

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Voldemort sat in front of his Death Eaters, gripping his wand tight. He was ready to punish each and every one of them until he got his desired answer, but he had to be civil about this. Or, he was about to be seen as weak.

Voldemort tapped his fingers impatiently. He would give them all one chance to answer honestly, then he would search their minds, and then he was going to punish them, especially the one who told.

"Who let slip where our location was?" he asked, standing up and walking in front of the line. Many were injured, some not present since they were near death. He was going to be...nice...to them for the moment. They might feel his wrath later if he didn't get his answer here.

Each man he walked in front of shook his head, saying "no, sir," keeping their heads down. He finished the line, turned around, and walked back slowly, scanning each of their minds. None...none... He was growing agitated. Who the bloody hell had slipped?! Finally... A man, mid way through, had told his wife he was going to be gone for awhile. She asked where he was going to be, he replied in Scotland.

Voldemort nodded, noting the man's face. He finished the line, also crossing another man who had told his friends he got a job up in Scotland and he wasn't going to be back for awhile. Both men weren't quite new, which made Voldemort wonder why they slipped up. Finally, Voldemort stood at the center of line, looking at everyone. "You may all leave...in a moment. I am disappointed in all of you. I thought you were all better fighters than that, even with our small numbers of the night. Two of you let slip where our location was. You will be punished separately. For the all of you... _Cruciatus_."

Voldemort swung his wand across the group, each and every one falling down, writhing and crying in pain. It was hard to hold the curse on this large of a group, but his anger helped it continue on. Those two though that had squealed had their worst nightmares coming.

He released the spell, and pointed the two out that had to stay. Everyone glared at the two, some smirking at the punishment that was about to happen. Voldemort watched the last man walk out of the door, and noticed that Wormtail was standing next to the door. He glared at the small man, causing him to shake. At least some things haven't changed. "Wormtail," he said aloud, "what are you still doing here? I thought I dismissed everyone." His voice was kept calm, though fury filled over syllable.

"M-m-m-m-mmaster, I-I-I thought th-that s-since P-p-potter was gone, you'd w-w-want another ass-sstant."

"Leave Wormtail! This is not a time to discuss that!"

He watched Wormtail squeak and run off, and turned back to the two that were still huddled on the ground, terrified.

"Now, for your punishment..."

Voldemort grinned as he preformed the simplest but most painful of curses on the two. It was like getting a message when listening to their screams. He watched them writhe in pain, and simply smiled, wondering if he could cause anymore damage and have them still be comprehensible at the end.

"Boys, you have disappointed me more than you imagine. Your lives are at my fingertips, and yet you go out and do something so stupid as tell others of where you'll be? You are a Death Eater. Your lives are secret and purposely random. You don't tell other's what you're going to be doing. Do you understand?"

He placed another spell on them, making their skin appear to shrivel and wilt, the brain imagining the pain the body is in. "Sorry sir, sorry!" One man screamed, the other sobbing, saying, "Master, please forgive me!"

Voldemort nodded, saying, "I'm glad you are finally seeing my view. Now, leave my presence before I decide to kill you, like I had planned to do at first."

He lifted the spell and both men hobbled up, quickly leaving the room. Voldemort began to pace the room, still angry, but carried his thoughts towards how to get Harry back. His thoughts drifted towards his recapture of the boy, and not even considering how the person who had squealed might've been smart enough to not even show up on that night.

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Hey everyone!! Hehehe...it's an update...about time...i guess... :P K, so this chapter isn't really all that good, but it explains a little more. I'm wondering where i want to go next, and how in the hell i'm gonna get Harry out of the hole i through him in XD hehe, dont worry, it'll be good. I have ideas for that chapter, which is awesome. And yeah, hopefully there aren't very many grammer mistakes. Note: DO NOT EDIT AND LISTEN TO LEWIS BLACK AT THE SAME TIME!! It's really hard...though he's a really funny comedian. Lol. Or, dont edit or write while listening to any comedian for that matter...hahaha. It's really hard. So. Thanks to all of those who reviewed, and i'll still reply. Now...more reviews please?? It only encourages me that my story hasn't really died yet. :) So...yep. Thanks to all of you who read, hope you enjoy this, and maybe, if all goes well, i can update before i leave for college... YAY!! hehehehe...so yeah, about thirteen days...if all goes well... So...Hope you enjoyed!!


	32. Return

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_"He's not getting much better... He's beginning to respond around people, but that's about it. He doesn't register that people are talking specifically to him, or even if they approach him. He just...notices at his own pace," a female's voice said._

_"And once more this is an only time can tell situation?" a male's voice asked._

_"Yes. I'm aware time is cutting down professor, but I apologize. We can't speed his body up in healing this type of injury. We need him functioning, according to you, but with how damaged his mind is, we can only go so far, so fast."_

_Or the dreams will get me..._

_"I see. Well, just give me the usual updates and I will continue to decide when the school shall know Harry Potter is back among them."_

_"That wouldn't be a wise decision, professor..."_

_A pause, the person probably shaking their head. "We will see."_

_"You don't always know what's best, professor. I'm sorry. I know you're the headmaster and that you need the boy for reasons that I don't need to know about. But, if you reintroduce him to the past that was taken away from him in the harshest fashion possible, it's going to mess up his mind even more and he won't be able to function at all."_

_I'm already there. Now go away._

_"I understand. We will think about that when the time comes. Until then, please keep a careful watch on him and let me know about any of the changes in his progress."_

_"Don't worry, professor. I'll keep watch."_

_It's all the same. Everyday, every moment. I want it to change. I want to be out of this cage and allowed to move. But no. I...can't explain, but I can't move anymore. I don't want to move anymore. I give up. I give up. I give up. I'm done with the pain, I'm done with people using my body like a little dispenser. I'm done with everyone. Just go away, all of you, and leave me to my death._

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Madam Pomfrey looked down on the boy, sighing once again. It had been two weeks, and barely any progress had been made. The boy...moved, one could say, but that depended on who was defining the term. In this type of situation, move would be considered as a twitch, especially when someone was around and speaking. She noticed almost right away that Harry wasn't responding well to voices and touch. When she was washing him, she realized he had to be unconscious otherwise he would do...something, she figured was the best word, to get her away. It wasn't as much as move away, as it was his power attempting to get her away. It was interesting, and very sad.

She moved away from him and went back into her office. She needed to find a book that helped her overcome this situation. If she lost the boy's mind, she wasn't sure who she would be more disappointed with. Professor Dumbledore, for getting the boy into this situation, or herself, for allowing it to happen and being unable to do everything she could to make the best of it so Harry could be at least comfortable. She decided Harry being happy was a dream at this point in time.

She sighed once more and pulled down the medical book she had been reading and refreshing her memory with. She turned to the section on mental health, and found the chapter titled "No One's Home" and found her spot. So far, she had been doing everything that the book said, but Dumbledore was convinced there was a faster way.

_If he continues to bug me, one of these days I just might put him in Harry's position and see how he likes it then._

Madam Pomfrey shook her head, continuing to read on, wishing there was some way she could take Harry out of this pain.

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_White land, all across the distance. Everywhere he looked, it was white, but with a haunting grey, almost black sky. Opposites attract, he supposed._

_He sat down once more, not wanting to wander anymore. He was tired, scared, hurt, annoyed, and confused. What put him here? How was he to get out? Why was he hurting constantly? How long was he supposed to stay here? Or was he even allowed to leave?_

_He looked around once more, feeling the familiar tears come. He looked back behind him and saw his bloody footsteps. His feet weren't really bleeding, but whenever he took a step, there was a bloody footstep. He closed his eyes, but opened them right away. If he slipped off again, the dreams would come and take him, like before. If he stayed here though, the monsters would still come find him. _

_He stood up, tears sliding down his face as he continued on, fighting exhaustion and the demons that were consuming him. He'd find a way out of here, he knew it, but how much longer? If the monsters found him, he'd have to start over again, like the previous three times. But, this was the farthest he had made it, and he had figured out a trick that barely helped keep him going. It was a start though. Anything to get him out of this place..._

_"How is he doing today, Poppy?" a voice asked, causing him to jump. He didn't know where that came from, and it sounded tired._

_"No different than any other day, professor. His brain is showing more mental activity, but that is about it. He still is barely aware of those around him."_

_He continued on, faster now, wondering if he should follow the voices. They certainly helped the land seem not as far and vast. He began to sprint, full of energy for the __moment. He hand't heard these voices for awhile, the last time being when the monsters had captured him. __He ran on and on, the female voice wrapping around him next. "I've done a bit of reading, and if all goes according to studies, health, and so on, with the severity of his brain damage it is possible to have him regain his old personality back to where it was before he was taken by the dark lord. He just has to be influenced right away by familiar people, his friends being an example. Would that be possible?"_

_He basically flew. The land slipped from his feet, the blood only looking like a smear. Don't stop talking, he wished, don't stop talking. I want to get out of here, I want to know what's happened, what's happening. _

_"I believe we can work something out," the tired male voice responded._

_"Professor, have you even told his two best friends about him?"_

_A long pause, the ground beginning to slow down. "No, but I have given it consideration."_

_"Dumbledore! You need to let them know what has happened. They're sixteen, seventeen years old. They are responsible for their actions, and they care very deeply about Harry. I believe they should at least know Harry is here, and of his condition."_

_Harry..._

_The word sent shockwave after shockwave through him, causing his mind to begin working. That word...that one word. It was familiar...it...was...him. He knew it. He knew he was Harry, and that he had some sort of life outside of this white land. He looked around him and noticed that the scenery was changing. It began to have color and even form some small buildings and bland colors. It was a start though. The sky even had a bluish tint. He continued on running through, hoping there was some sort of "exit" out of here._

_"You should tell them, professor. Maybe they would come in and Harry would regain his memory and body functions, or, maybe even wake up from the coma his mind has put him in. Wouldn't that be nice?"_

_Friends... I have...friends? What are those? Are they nice? Will they help me? Or, they will, the woman thinks...but, help me with what? Memory? Body functions? I do have a memory, and I'm working perfectly fine. _

_The scenery changed to more of a green color, and it was dark. He began to slow, more out of fear. Maybe the monsters were hiding in there, and they were coming to take him. _

_No, I don't think that they are. I think I'm supposed to go to this place... Maybe it's the place where I'm supposed to go..._

_He ran through the trees, tripping over roots and getting hit by branches that stuck out. He didn't give up, especially as the voice said, "We will see. If it helps the boy out, then yes, I will have them come and stay with him. If not, then he is better off alone."_

_"Professor!" the woman's voice raged. "How can you say such a thing? I, the nurse watching over this boy, say that his friends are allowed to come and watch over him, due to their presence being a comfort, both physically and mentally."_

_He felt her rage, and it helped him run on and on, a clearing beginning to form. Yes, yes, yes... he thought._

_"Poppy, I am sorry, but you have no control over what can or cannot be right for the boy. You are in charge of insuring that he heals, and that is it."_

_"He will heal faster if his friends are around. I told you Albus, I've been reading and I'm sure that's more than you have done to help him. The book says people with mental problems such as him, and even worse, respond best around those who love them. And, for him, it would be his friends. I believe it would be best, Albus, if Ron and Hermione are allowed to come in and see Harry, and understand the condition and how he was placed in such a thing. I can explain how he is doing physically and mentally, and you sir, can explain how he was placed into such a state."_

_He broke through the clearing, and saw green grass stretch out, and a large building in front of him. He ran up to the building, eager. This had to be his way out. This had to be. He met the large front door and pushed them open. He finally was able to enter, and looked around, deciding to run straight. He could make it...it was as if his feet knew where to lead him. He knew he could make it...if the voices didn't stop speaking._

_"I am not sure that they could handle how he was put into such a state. I do not believe that they could act rationally around him."_

_"Albus! As I have said, they are sixteen, seventeen years old! I believe they know how to act in a situation such as this! They have been around the boy for the past six years, and have gotten themselves out of things that most believe will never happen. I will tell them that Harry is very sensitive to those around him, and to be careful and to act rationally. If they want their friend back, which they do, then they will listen and do as I say. Please, Albus, do this for Harry, and not for whatever you have planned for the boy."_

_Harry sprinted up a staircase, pausing once more outside of a door, only to push it open. A hazy yellow light was above one of the back beds, and he ran towards it, knowing this was it, whatever it was. Hopefully it got him out of here. He jumped onto the bed as the male voice said, "We will see, Poppy. I will think about it."_

_"Thank you professor. If you want to help the boy out, this is the best way."_

_The yellow light enshrouded him, and his surroundings turned black. He felt pain, and his mind began to shred apart. He yelled, feeling as if he was being held down while __his mind ripped itself apart, not allowing him to do anything. Finally, a deep sleep consumed him, and he was allowed to rest._

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Dumbledore walked to his office, thinking. He had been debating about letting Harry's two friends aware of what had happened, and if they should know the whole story. He knew they could handle it...if they didn't let their emotions get in the way.

He sighed as he sat down, and pulled out a piece of parchment. He grabbed a quill and kept it above the paper, unknowing how to write the message to keep it plain and simple.

_Minerva—_

_I ask of you to bring Ron and Hermione to my office as soon as you can. It is a fairly important discussion and I ask of you to excuse them from any classes they may miss. _

_Albus_

He nodded simply and gave the note to Fawkes, watching him disappear and reappear moments later. He patted the bird, watching him flick his tail back and forth around the bar that he was perched on. He moved on and sat behind his desk, hoping that Minerva would notice his urgency. He had other things to do that actually involved his skill, and he didn't have much time left. How he needed Snape to return...

The man was supposed to come back at least a week earlier, but no sign or word has reached him, besides the words of the headmasters of the other wizarding schools that Severus had successfully reached them.

Dumbledore's thoughts were interrupted as someone knocked on the door, him calling "Enter." Minerva entered first, giving a 'one minute' finger to someone behind her.

She shut the door and rushed over to Dumbledore, quickly saying, "Sir, we have word of where Severus is and that he he's coming back soon. Arthur was able to get a hold of someone who knew where he was. He'll be back within the week."

Dumbledore stood, remaining calm. "Does Arthur know where he has been? His services have been needed at the school."

"He says he doesn't know, and that Severus is as upset as ever. Arthur only knows that he wants to come back and explain a situation to you, and that is all that he knows."

Dumbledore simply nodded, saying, "Thank you Minerva. Now, back to your classes. I will speak with the two now."

She nodded and left, opening the door and allowing Harry's former friends enter the room. The door shut and he gestured towards two chairs in front of him. "Please, take a seat." He watched the two sit, both nervous as he was, only he was hiding it deep within.

"Is this about Harry?" Ron asked, looking up at him carefully.

"It is," he replied.

"Has he come back?" Hermione asked, obviously eager.

"He has." A gasp came from both, both appearing to be relieved and happy. "But," he continued, "there have been a few problems with his return."

A look of fear crushed their happiness. "L-l-like what?" Ron asked, face growing slightly pale.

"While we were retrieving him, Voldemort entered his mind once more, and Harry wasn't able to handle it. Voldemort shredded his mind once more, and we don't know if Harry is going to be able to come out of it. He has slowly been improving but with professor Snape gone, it has been a miracle that he is doing as well as he is."

"What all happened? How is he acting?" Hermione asked, Dumbledore finally sighing.

"He has little to no mental activity besides his automatic functions. He is barely responsive to people around him, and if he is, he shows signs of fear. I have faith that he will recover, but it all depends on time, which we do not have, and is the reason why I asked for you to come here today. Madam Pomfrey and I believe that with you two around, Harry will recognize that his loved ones are here and it will help heal him more efficiently and faster. If it wasn't for the time, I probably wouldn't have confronted you until a more appropriate time. But, Harry needs your help, and I believe that your presence can help him."

Hermione and Ron nodded simply, Ron asking, "So when will we be able to see him?"

"I will take you down there soon if you don't have any questions."

"How long has this been going on?" Hermione asked.

"The past two weeks?"

"And where's professor Snape? Couldn't he also help Harry out as well?"

"He is returning after an errand I sent him on."

"Why couldn't Hagrid go on the errand like normal?"

_Smart girl...too smart and thinking of too many questions that she shouldn't really want to be curious about._ "I cannot answer that. It is between me and him."

Hermione nodded, and she seemed to bite her tongue. "If that is all, then follow me please." Dumbledore stood up smoothly, being careful of his injured hand.

The two teens stood and followed him to the hospital wing, Dumbledore hoping that this would help cure Harry faster. The closer though that they came to the hospital wing, the more thoughts entered his mind. He hoped Harry would be able to rest and live his own life after all of this, and wouldn't have to worry about Dumbledore bothering him anymore. Dumbledore though hoped society in general would leave Harry alone. But, he had to know how Harry was going to heal first.

"In here," he simply said once arriving to the doors. He looked around the room and saw that there were no other students. They had gotten lucky. He walked towards the end of the room where Madam Pomfrey was already standing and took in a deep breath.

Without any warning he pulled a curtain back and let it fall around the small group, and took a quick look at the frail boy. He was still dangerously white, and the black hair only looked darker. He was barely breathing and the bruises that should have been long gone, even with potions, were beginning to turn a yellow color. He had various scars over his body, and Dumbledore knew only skilled surgeons and wizards could help them disappear. He looked over at Ron and Hermione, and saw sorrow etched deep on their faces. They had held up far better than he expected. Even Hermione was refusing to let her tears fall.

As the curtain fell, more thoughts began to enter his mind. How could he do such a thing to them? He pulled them all into this danger, all to stop an evil wizard. But more would die if he didn't do this. Voldemort was heartless and would kill to get his point across. If he knew that if his time wasn't limited, he would do as much as he could to not let Harry have to shoulder all of the work. Dumbledore had done his fair share of work over the years, but he couldn't compare himself to what the boy has had to go through in his sixteen years.

"His signs have began to improve in the last hour, professor," Madam Pomfrey said silently, Hermione and Ron looking up.

"How so?"

"He...it's hard to explain. It's from the stats. His mind began moving, but not in any recognition of the outside world. It was close to REM spindles, or, dream waves, but it had a different type of read. There were a lot of sporadic moments, moments I realized from when we were talking, and whenever there had been a pause, the spindles had paused. Does that make sense?"

"Fairly...so he's beginning to respond to people."

"I don't think it's people, I think that it's voices. But it's progress. He hasn't moved since, so I'm wondering if anything will happen with all of us here."

"And other than that his brain is completely calm?"

"Yes. Nothing has happened since then. I am glad though that you considered my offer and brought his friends."

"You really believe we can help?" Hermione asked silently.

"Yes dear, I do. I have been reading a lot and the books have all seemed to agree on bringing close friends or family around and having them talk to the person. If not to the person, then just to some other object. The books believe that the sound of the loved one's voice has an impact on the person's brain more effectively than a normal person's. The person has been around the loved one's voice, and has been trained to respond to that voice and has learned to trust and believe in it.

"The more that the person and loved one has gone through is also an important factor. The three of you have gone through thick and thin on many different levels. I personally think that by having you two here, Harry's brain will begin to recognize that there are people around who care, and he'll come out of his coma."

Dumbledore watched Hermione and Ron think about what Madam Pomfrey just said. It was more than he had expected, but didn't surprise him. He did think Harry needed his friends, but he had also hoped that Severus would be back by now as well. Hermione finally looked up with a small smile, and said, "I guess that all makes sense. And, with our bodies having magic, is that going to make a difference?"

Madam Pomfrey thought for a bit. "I will say I did read from muggle books, as well as from a few wizardry books from recent times, and the books do seem to differ a little where magic is concerned. Muggle's have what they call 'witch doctors' and they do seem to make a bit of a difference, though not much. Us, true witches and wizards, do seem to have the ability to use our magic and help our loved one heal. Does that make sense?"

Hermione nodded, Ron slower. Dumbledore just stood there and watched, seeing Madam Pomfrey's logic. "So...our powers might help Harry out? Is that what you're trying to say?" Ron asked, Madam Pomfrey nodding.

"If you want to say it like that, than yes. I believe by having the two of you around, Harry's brain will begin to process the outside world much sooner than whatever is in his head. Are you two willing to help him out?"

"Of course we would," Hermione said, as Ron began "Well we _are_ his friends..."

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "Thank you. I will keep a record of this, and maybe I will be able to help enforce those studies, though this is a different case that I don't think many people ever see."

Hermione and Ron nodded, Dumbledore nodding once. "Is that all, Poppy?"

"Yes sir. You may leave if you want."

Dumbledore nodded, and ducked under the curtain. He walked out of the hospital wing and towards his office, glad that Harry's friends were willing to help him out. Harry was going to need all of the attention that he could receive, and he nor Poppy was able to give him that. Maybe Severus would be willing to help... Harry did seem to grow more fond of the professor as he helped Harry in Voldemort's captivity. _Severus has to return here first..._

He came to the top of the rotating stairs and opened his door, unsurprised to see his friend sitting in a chair, looking more exhausted than one person able to ever be. He looked up as Dumbledore entered, and didn't seem able to stand. "Sir," he breathed out, looking ready to collapse.

"Severus. Glad you could join us once more. You came back sooner than was expected."

"Sir, please. I need to explain...fast..."

Dumbledore sat behind his desk and nodded.

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_I'm not ready for anything. I don't want to be ready for anything. It's all gone, and I want it to stay that way. The light is too bright, and hope is too far away. I don't want to be told what to do anymore. Why can't I just be left alone? It's so easy to just let go of everything and release all of this...this...pent up...whatever! needs to go away...like...now...now would be a good time..._

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Hey everyone!! It's aaaaannnnn uuuupppdddaaaattteee...hehehe. It's kinda a long chapter, and i think a lot happens in a a reasonable amount of time...idk. Maytbe it's all too fast...idk, i'm not done with the story yet, but let me know what you think and i'll work with it :) But yea...college is awesome, and easy, and sorry i sorta lied about the amount of days that it'd take...but i am writing a lot more at night just cus i have nothing better to do lol. But yeah...i'll try to work on the next update (though my covenant story totally needs to be worked on...fuckin writer's block...) anywho... :P update, let me know what you think. I have an outline, but if i need to work with something, i can do that. Hehe. Thanks to those who reviewed in the last chapter, and i'll reply :D but...thanks a ton, and until next time!!


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